


Hunter's Syndrome

by theisraelproject107



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, Romance, Sci-Fi, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 130,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theisraelproject107/pseuds/theisraelproject107
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axel, contract killer extraordinaire, faces a dilemma: three months of menial work in a time that isn't his own, revolving around a blond that he not only has to assassinate at the end of that period - but also protect until that moment arrives. Joy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - haiku version: I own not these works, though I really did write them, I make no money.
> 
> So, this is me testing out Ao3, I guess! Anyone who happens to pass this way who hasn't read my stuff before, I hope you enjoy :)

CHAPTER ONE

It started in an uptown bar, although sometimes it happened in a nightclub, or a Starbucks, or a bookstore, or this one time in a sex shop. Never the same place twice, and always preceded by the usual call from Reno: "I'm hungry again. I want to see you so bad…" Then he'd text through the location, and Axel would be there exactly six hours later. No matter where he was in the world, Reno was within a six-hour radius the second he answered the phone.

Axel found him sitting at the bar with the mirrors behind the bottles lining the wall, sucking down a German beer and exuding his usual air of sleazy charm and confidence. A row of empty shot glasses sat at his elbow, like he'd been waiting for a while, but when Axel took the stool beside him, and Reno glanced over, Axel couldn't see a hint of inebriation in his eyes or face. He was dressed in the same smooth sort of outfit that Axel had chosen, dark trousers and an expensive shirt under a jacket, and Axel always wondered slightly if anyone would take notice of them because they looked so obvious when you sat them side by side like this, like an exclusive club for redheads, you must be THIS flaming to enter. No one ever seemed to, though, and Reno would know if they did, so Axel didn't let it bother him.

"You scrub up nice," Reno said by way of greeting, pale eyes sliding up and down Axel's lithe frame.

"Keep your herpes to yourself," Axel replied, signalling the bartender and ordering a scotch.

Reno lolled against the bar with a grin. "That's what I get for sharing and caring. It's not a crime."

"No," Axel agreed, "but it's a turn-off." His drink arrived, and they started chatting for a while, Reno swivelling on his stool so that he was facing the room, elbows relaxed against the counter. His gaze swept casually across the room, time and time again like he was scanning for warm company through the long night, winking occasionally at women, at men, at anything with a pulse that happened to look his way. Axel waited patiently, and after twenty minutes Reno deemed it safe enough to pull a napkin across the shining bar, taking a pen out of his pocket and writing something on the corner that looked like a phone number. He folded it and inserted it with two long fingers into the pocket of Axel's jacket, expression lascivious as he did so, so that anyone watching would think they were hooking up. "That's the year and time period," he murmured, draping an arm over Axel's shoulder, a wave of alcoholic breath washing over the man as he sat sipping a second scotch with a clink of ice cubes.

"Time period?"

Reno shrugged slightly. "We don't have the exact date. The best we got was a vague area to aim for, and the rest is up to you. The target's name is Roxas Black, one of the researchers for the Cornerstone Theory."

"That was proven twenty years ago," Axel muttered. "Someone wants to get rid of the Theory?"

"Who cares?" Reno was blasé about the purpose. "Maybe the client wants to be the one to prove it, maybe they worked with him or didn't get to work on it at all. What happens next is anyone's guess, but what  _makes_ it happen is our territory. And the client was very specific – this Black guy was the one who made the difference, you have to  _let_ him make that difference before you get to him. He has to prove the Theory. After that, he's all yours."

"We can't find out the specific date from here?" Axel asked, shifting under the point of Reno's chin digging into his shoulder. "I mean, the information bureau, for one, medical journals, that sort of thing..."

Reno shook his head, chin grinding into muscle. "Weirdly, there's no mention of Roxas Black except as a minor part of the team," he said. "There's no official discovery date, on top of that – only the date of the announcement to the media, and that probably took place weeks after the research was completed, to conduct tests and shit to make sure they were a hundred percent."

Axel was unimpressed. "So I'm going to have to be there for several weeks?"

"Well, months," Reno corrected, Axel choking on his drink.

" _Months?"_

"It's a kick in the britches – but what can you do?" Reno was supremely unperturbed. "It's all on the napkin, sweet-cheeks. Don't get agitated, I'm sure it won't take the full amount of time."

Axel downed the rest of his scotch with a grimace. "That's easy for you to say."

Reno grinned brightly. "You know what? It is!" He took hold of Axel's chin in one hand, leaned forward and planted a smacking kiss on his mouth, slipping a large, sealed envelope into his jacket as he did so. "Be a man. Take Black down, or die trying, and I'll see you again when I see you." He dug out some crumpled notes and left them on the bar to cover their drinks, then sauntered across the room towards the bathroom, leaving Axel to skulk out the back exit with a scowl on his face.

The redhead walked several blocks through the cool night air without stopping, the stars spread out up above, traffic passing on his left. He could still taste the flavours of scotch, and of beer, Reno's contribution to his mouth. When he was certain he wasn't being followed, Axel ducked into a tight, dim alleyway and pulled out the envelope, the napkin and his penlight. Slipping a thumbnail under the seal, he opened the envelope, withdrawing its contents underneath the glow of the small light in the darkness, revealing photographs of a blond, some blurry, others crisp. Behind the pictures was personal information, a résumé, schools attended and habits known, anything pertinent about the subject, which turned out to be precious little. Axel frowned as he scanned it all, flipping through the few pages of general details that could have been garnered with a couple of phone calls and a trip to the library. Usually, people consisted of more than this. It was strange, and suspicious. It felt contrived, and he usually had a keen sense for that sort of thing. It was like someone had come along behind this guy and rubbed his path clean. Obviously, the guy knew what he was doing – or had done, back in the day.

Axel placed the napkin foremost and memorised the numbers.  _04-06-2033._ April to June. How about that – he was going to be stuck twenty years in the past for three fucking months. Blowing out a slow sigh, he packed everything back into the envelope, napkin included, and tucked it away again into his jacket. Hands in pockets, he returned to the street, and hailed a cab back to his hotel.

o-O-o

The next week was spent in preparation. There were documents to be fabricated, records to be orchestrated, fingerprints to be mismatched and retinal scans to be botched. Axel was careful, and thorough, going about his tasks in the professional manner common to all members of the Organisation, the best of the best with the stomachs of iron and the funding of giants. Their services were highly sought, the ability to turn back the clock and eliminate competition wherever it existed, create a new set of events that unfolded without a certain someone involved because that certain someone was dead already. Be they political or business adversaries, troublesome spouses or lovers, even friends – any perceived obstacle could be removed, as long as the price was right. There were limits, for the sake of safety and a slight sense of moral obligation towards not inadvertently ending the planet, and to this end the only allowable hits had to have existed within the client's own timeline. But other than that – every day of the client's life was open season.

He spent one day readying his weaponry, guns and blades packed into a hard silver case that was then locked twice. It took three further days to research the area he was headed for and the current affairs of the era, any possible data that he felt could be of service compiled into one device for quick personal recall. He packed clothes, cash that was dated at least twenty years old, and on the second last day burnt the package that Reno had slipped him in the tub, the envelope twisting and smoking into ash, washed away down the drain. He knew the face he was hunting, the place and month, and the way in which he was assured to gain access to the target; there was nothing left to do but get there.

The final night, he gathered his belongings into one large suitcase. Axel sat it at the corner of the bed and took one last case over to the doorway. It was long, slim and black, cold looking – symbolic of the Organisation he worked for. There was a twin of it in his bag, his return ticket, identical in every way except that that one would go with him, whereas this one would stay.

It required a code to open, Axel entering each digit with care since a single incorrect combination would result in a terrible electrical current that was bound to kill him. It opened to reveal a coil of wires that, from one end to the other, stretched to about nine meters. Studded along the wires intermittently were silver discs, and sitting in a small niche to the side of the case was a tube of a pale blue gel-like substance, super-refined Mako in its rare, uncondensed form, not the sort of thing to get on the skin. He carefully set the case down on the nightstand, looping the wires several times around his shoulders before lifting the whole length out, black and red cables trailing down his arms, thin but heavy. Taking the tube of Mako with him over to the door, Axel began the cautious process of dabbing the blue jelly onto each silver disc along the wires before pressing them onto the doorframe. The Mako made them stick, held them steady, the wires steadily becoming the new frame around the door, the queer scent of intense chemical drifting through the air.

While dormant, the mess of wires bordering the opening looked vaguely ominous but otherwise completely unimpressive. Axel stepped back to survey his work, eyes slowly tracing the lines, lingering on each disc to visually double-check that they were all firmly in position. At the end of the cables sat a small socket, empty and incomplete. The redhead returned to the black case, lifting out the top insert, uncovering the final component necessary for getting to where he needed to be, one last cable. One end plugged into the end of the wires surrounding the doorway, Axel running his hands along its length, smoothing it into a straight line leading to the power socket behind the nightstand. It was the most innocuous part of the operation: he unplugged the clock, the numbers of which had brightened the room during the sparse hours he had slept, and, ensuring that the switch was off, inserted the plug at the end of the cable. He straightened, stepped back, once again inspected his work with a thorough eye and then turned to get his luggage. He dragged it over towards the door, leaving it alone one more time to go back to the power socket, allowing a moment for any final, forgotten elements to spring into his mind, then flicked the switch to the 'on' position.

There was a pause, nothing happening, the man backing away quickly and picking up his suitcase, fingers tight around the handle. Then, without warning, a surge of power erupted from the Mako as it sensed electricity close by, invisible to the naked eye as it shot through the mass of wires but nearly blinding as every single light and appliance connected to the building blazed when it made contact with the wall socket. The hotel became a beacon in the night, a bright point like a burning star, eclipsing all else around it, pulsing with Mako energy. The air hummed and flickered, the lights crackling, Axel's eyes calmly shut and covered with his free arm. A strange heat shimmered from every point of power, the sharp smell of burning wires scenting the air – and then, just as fast as it had exploded into existence, the surge was gone. The Mako, hungry by nature, had reversed the process and now drew an entire hotel's worth of electricity in towards itself, the wires around the door filling to more than they could hold and vibrating impossibly fast at their subatomic level. The building went dark, pitch black, no power left for anything else, the restaurant, the function rooms, the ballroom, the thousands of guest rooms, all extinguished, and now the Mako was fighting with itself around the doorframe.

Each metal disc with each dab of the stuff burned white hot as the separate applications of Mako desired to consume the power all on their own, the frightening level of electricity in the room being dragged between one disc and another, arcs of raw energy splitting the air between them until a grid had formed. Each time the Mako touched electricity, the electricity's power quadrupled and jumped through the wires and was drawn into another disc, another smear of Mako, another multiplication of strength, all of it happening faster than could be comprehended, a maelstrom of blue fire roaring between each silver point, the wires thrashing, whipping about, Axel standing out of reach. His arm lowering, he watched the process between squinted lids, smelling his own hair beginning to burn, feeling his heart start to palpitate, the Mako keeping it all in a controlled frenzy that prevented him from being incinerated but unable to protect him entirely.

Then the moment came, the peak, the crisis point, where it was no longer just Mako dragging at electricity, a furious network of arcs; with no higher point to grasp for, the impossible met and breached, the electricity and Mako reached a matched vibration and collapsed inward to become a rip, a vortex, lightless, the utter black of nightmares. There wasn't a hint of illumination in the room now, but the shape and position of the doorway was branded a bright blue into Axel's retinas and mind, he saw it hovering on the air as though it still twisted its violent dance in front of him. There was no hesitation as he stepped toward it, crossed the distance with suitcase still firmly in hand and moved directly into it. The darkness consumed him, wrapped around every limb, hair and crevice, filling each pore, every orifice and cell, filling his lungs, eyes, ears, cutting him away piece by piece from the hotel until nothing was left but a disembodied mind.

_04-06-2033._

In this empty, non-existent space he had no body – no anything – the beauty of which was that the mind was free to roam, it was driver and something as heavy as cells were mere afterthought passengers, following only if he willed them to exist in the next life.

_04-06-2033._

He had a destination, towards which he didn't turn, since there was nothing to turn within; he didn't wonder where he was, or try to find a direction to follow, because there was nowhere to be, nowhere to go. All he needed was a  _when._

_04-06-2033._

He wanted his body and luggage back, and like lead armour they clad him. Axel let them drag at him, taking him down into an airless, unsettling free fall, and when he next felt solid ground beneath his newly reconstructed feet, he took a single large step forward, emerging from the darkness into a dimly lit street. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the black vortex suck emptily at the air as though searching for him, then, running out of the ferocious energy that had brought it into existence, disappear smokily into the night air. Not a wisp was left behind.

He had arrived.

Axel took a moment to orient himself, green eyes sliding slowly around new surroundings. He was standing in a backstreet, dull buildings rising up towards the dark sky, a streetlight at the end of the road bleeding light outward in a watery halo. He was alone, he always sought to emerge in a place that held no immediate human life, and obediently to date he had been left in places like this every single time. Nobody ever saw him arrive out of the thin air, like some sort of magician, just as no one ever saw him go.

There was a drip-drip-drip nearby like it had been raining before he got there, a spring shower in the dead of night. He drew in a breath, filled his chest, tasted the air and found the faint metallic tang that was always left from inhaling Mako fumes. With one last look around, Axel tightened his fingers briefly to make sure his suitcase was still there and in one piece, before cautiously setting off down the road. As always, he found that the world of yesteryear was hardly different from the day he had come from. When you worked within a sixty or seventy year timeline, nothing was ever too radical. The most change happened in the minds of the people, with the exception of a couple of advances in technology and the sciences, and even then it seemed, to Axel's mind, to cement the fact that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He always felt confident walking around these back alley time zones; he already knew everything that was coming. It made him smug, like the world's greatest secret keeper, all the answers and all locked away.

He made his way towards the busier streets and bought a newspaper from a roadside stand. The date was accurate – it was the last night of March, tomorrow would begin the period for which he had been hired. Standing beneath the bright lights of the stores and the traffic, he riffled through the pages, checking that the current events he had researched and those that were occurring matched up. Satisfied, he folded the paper under one arm and set off at a slower pace, taking time to inhale the twenty-years-younger air, absorb his surroundings, lessen the physical impact a little by giving his body some time to simply saunter along. He headed for the very same hotel that he had just within the hour vacated through a burning trap-door through time and space, and booked into a room that wasn't too far down the corridor from where he'd started.

He smiled a little as he set down his suitcase and got ready for a night of heavy, healing slumber. He would be unconscious for roughly fourteen hours, setting his watch to wake him at the fifteenth if he happened to sleep late, his muscles getting increasingly sore, his eyes stinging, the strain of such an intense form of travel catching inevitably up with him. It was all going well so far, though, and tomorrow would see the commencement of all his plans to ensure that the contract went off without a hitch. Somewhere out there in the city an invisible timer had appeared over the head of a blond researcher, and for every minute longer that Axel spent within this timeline, that was a minute ticking down for the unfortunate Roxas Black.

It was all so unfailingly simple.

 


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Axel slept through, starting the day at one in the afternoon, with a lot to get done before nightfall. While details on the target had been sparse, the Cornerstone Theory itself had a font of information surrounding it, as well as the research company that had finally pinpointed it. The conclusion that Axel had drawn from this was that the only way to be able to monitor both the target, Black, and the progress leading up to the discovery that he had to allow to occur, was to get inside the company as an employee. Being that he had no research skills worthy of the scientific field – he doubted they would be impressed by his ability to hack into restricted government records in under three minutes – the option that he had decided on was, of all the ironies, security work.

The first thing he did upon waking was unpack his laptop and insert his falsified personal records into the governmental systems, creating the persona of Axel Drake, by which he would live over the next three months. From there, he called the employee relations branch of the research company – the internationally renowned Hollow Bastion Research Committee, Archades division – and set up an appointment for himself posing as the rep of a legitimate agency that had been pre-established as a front by the Organisation for use on just such occasions, a hundred years previous to its official inception. He was accepted without hesitation, scheduled for an interview at six p.m., which left him with the afternoon to set himself up with a permanent address for the next three months, the hotel address hardly making a good impression as a potential employee at such a high-scale corporation. He went downstairs, picked up a newspaper from the lobby, and ate a late lunch down the road at a diner. Pen in hand, he scanned the classifieds, circling rentals that fit his criteria, namely being cheap, easily abandoned, and somewhat near to the target's abode, a bungalow in a pleasant upmarket neighbourhood. In the end, he settled on a basement apartment needing an occupant and their income quickly, no references required. He made a second, earlier appointment to view the place, and finished his meal, taking the paper with him as he strolled back to the hotel.

Back in his room he showered, shaved, and changed into fresh clothing, squeezing the water out of his thick hair, a towel around his shoulders to catch the drips as he lifted his suitcase onto the bed and unzipped. Behind the false back, his collection of knives and guns waited patiently, hands passing over the firearms and pulling out the smaller case containing the blades. He opened it up, pondered the selection with care and chose a switchblade, tugging up the leg of his pants and tucking it into his boot. The newspaper was unfolded on his bed, green eyes skating over the headlines as he dried his hair off, lips moving silently as he repeated names and events to himself, memorising the more inconsequential news to have an opinion on if anyone happened to ask. After combing out his mane and packing back up what little he had removed from his suitcase since arriving, he heaved it up and headed downstairs to check out of the room.

From there, it was a fifteen minute cab ride to attend the apartment viewing, a dank, old building in lowtown Archades, beyond downtown and further into the underbelly of the city. It was imperfect in that he was further from the target's home than generally desired, but nevertheless it was an address, came pre-furnished, and it took him only a short check around to decide to keep it for his own. He had had worse, and certainly would have little trouble with the local fauna if they knew what was good for them. He handed over a month's rent to the simpering landlord and locked the door behind him. Depositing his suitcase by the aged, stripe-patterned settee, he set about prowling the rooms, discovering rampant mould attacking the bathroom walls, rusted pipes and an odd must in the kitchen, and signs of general lack of care ranging from holes kicked into walls, never repaired, to what was unmistakeably knife marks dragged into every piece of furniture like some psychotic's graffito tag. All this of course explained why the rent was on the lower side, and why the landlord had virtually thrown the place at him; it was a regulations nightmare that would require thousands of dollars of work to bring it up to standard. That was good, then; although it had obviously been no prize gem on the first look-through, Axel always liked to make sure that he was getting what was equal to what he was contributing, no special deals, no suspicious generosity - nothing too good to be true that would end up costing him extra further down the line.

Able now to feel secure in his location, he carried his suitcase into the bedroom and began unpacking, stashing weaponry at strategic points around the wide, quiet apartment, making the place his own, his three-month fortress. Tomorrow, he would find a hardware store and buy the tools to reinforce the locks, but for now the place would be further secured, when he was present, by wooden wedges slammed under both the front and bedroom doors whenever he slept. The high windows were small and barred, allowing little light but creating a more sheltered environment, which pleased him. All in all, the place suited his purposes fairly well.

Address in place, he doctored his resume with security-laden experience and emailed it through to the agency, who promptly sent it without question onward to the Research Committee headquarters. With an hour and a half stretching between now and the job interview, Axel took the opportunity to nap on the ancient bed, ears remaining alert for foreign noises but body relaxing, gathering energy for the night to come.

After forty minutes of rest left him refreshed, the man swung his feet to the floor and changed clothes a second time, this time into a casual suit, the same one he had worn to meet Reno in the bar. He hesitated only briefly before discarding the switchblade as he changed his shoes, sliding it into the lining of his pillow, not wanting to be caught out by metal detectors two steps into the company. To replace it, he instead clipped on a pair of cufflinks, pretty golden things with sharpened titanium tips, useful in a pinch. Running his fingers through his hair, he checked himself over in the bedroom mirror, found nothing amiss worth adjusting, and headed outside. Locking the door, he exited straight out onto the street, climbing the cement stairs and hailing a cab to take him deep downtown to the Research Committee headquarters.

o.O.o

The sun was setting as he arrived, paying the driver and stepping out with eyes turned upward to take in the magnitude of the building. The golden light reflected harshly from its all-glass front, Axel squinting up at it for a minute, studying the company's face as he would the face of a person, absorbing its appearance as part of its personality, giving him more of an idea of how to act within its presence to fit the role he was to play.

It was an imposing structure, serious and impressive, belittling many of the other buildings on the street as though it had grown organically to be taller than everything else out of sheer willpower and cut-throat strategy. This sensation was continued on the inside, Axel passing through the automatic sliding doors of the main entrance into a crisply air-conditioned interior consisting of dark, regal colours and a simplistic, cool layout designed to leave the visitor feeling either awed or cowed, depending on their purpose there. Axel felt neither, observing with mere interest the design and subconscious reaction that the others around him had to it, from guests to the employees themselves. The desk staff was of course there to further the image, dressed impersonally and smartly, like extensions of the importance of the place. The woman that greeted Axel with a slight, professional smile at the front counter was a conflicted combination of polite respect coupled with an indistinctly unwelcoming air, prepared to either accept him as a valued member of society or sniff him to one side as someone thoroughly unworthy of her time. He knew ahead of time, with amusement, which of her faces he would receive, and after announcing his name and purpose was unsurprisingly dismissed to the elevators to head upstairs without ceremony.

Once at the third floor, Axel followed the brief directions that had been given and wound up in a second, smaller reception area. A further ten minutes of heel-cooling later, he was ushered in to see the security personnel officer, only to receive his first shock of the mission so far. Up until now, everything had gone according to every one of Axel's expectations, from the journey back in time to the acceptance for an interview, and the discovery of his crappy basement apartment; nothing had surprised him, at any point. It was all smooth, all perfectly on course, and it  _had_ been set to continue in that vein, up to the point when he entered that office and found himself face to face with the head of the research team. Now, this wasn't a big shock by any means – about as minor as minor got, really – but it was refreshingly different, and took him ever so slightly aback. The man waiting for him, the only one in the room, noticed this, and seemed faintly pleased with himself, although the expression flitted only swiftly across his grim face before returning to its usual stoic set. He asked, shrewdness evident, "Do you recognise me?"

Axel regarded him carefully, observing the way the man obviously felt he was holding some kind of ace up his sleeve. "Uh – yes, sir, I do. You're – Ansem. Head of research."

"How do you know this?"

Axel blinked, said, "The agency, sir. The one that represents me, they showed me preliminary data about the company and its main figures of importance. It's – standard for all potential interviews."

Ansem, tall, blond and distinguished, with a past Axel knew was peppered intermittently with moral confusions as far as his research was concerned, folded his hands behind his back and wandered out from behind the desk. He affected a thoughtful expression. "I see. What's curious, however, is that I had no idea at all that we were on the lookout for a new member of security. When I heard about your appointment, I had to come to see you for myself." His cold, almost golden eyes were penetrating, digging into Axel's as though he could see through souls. "You see, my boy – I felt at a disadvantage, I felt sure you  _would_ know who I am, whether you admitted it or not, and so I have come today to see if  _I_ can recognise  _you."_

His intensity had Axel on the back foot, wondering what was going on. "…Sir?"

Ansem closed in, to where he still stood by the doorway, his suspicious gaze slicing over Axel's features, searching for a familiarity, something he could connect inside his brain, little knowing that the only way for him to know the man in front of him was to travel almost clear across the country and look for a child still clinging to his mother's skirts. Axel knew this, drew steadiness from it, but couldn't shake the slight tightening of his muscles at the scrutiny. Ansem had no way of knowing who he was or what he was truly here for, but it was unnerving, and for a minute Axel wondered if he had been somehow sabotaged.

At length, however, Ansem subsided, somewhat disappointed, suspicion far from fading but suffering a little. "Hmm… hm. No, you don't strike me as anyone in particular from the science field. So who are you, then?"

Ah. So that had been his purpose – Ansem had general suspicions, not specific ones. All right; he could work with this. "I'm just… here looking for a job, sir. I don't know science very well at all; I just guard things. It was my representative agency that set me up with this interview."

Ansem looked triumphant, as if he had caught Axel out in a lie, yet Axel still had no idea how or why. "But how strange," he said with a hard smile, "because in fact the last time I checked,  _all_ human employees had been dismissed from this project, aside from the research team itself, and that included security. Do you know why that is?"

Damn it, another surprise. There had been nothing of this in the research, another frustrating little absence in the information surrounding Roxas Black. Axel smothered his reaction, didn't let Ansem know he had been caught off-guard, instead calmly replying, "Why, sir?"

Ansem fell silent for a moment, studying him with a fierce expression, obviously trying to figure him out. Axel just wished he knew what sort of act he was supposed to be exhibiting; he wasn't bad at thinking on his feet, but at this early stage of the operation he hardly wanted to be derailed from such an optimum position of observation due to the simplest of behavioural errors. Eventually, as though it pained him to say so, Ansem finally admitted, "We have had corruption from every corner – members of staff trying to sell us out before we can pinpoint the root of our current project. There are many companies out there that wish to be the first to prove our theory, but we are known to be the ones with the advantage." He scowled, attention finally shifting away from Axel as he turned to pace the room. "The problem with humans is how dismally fallible they are. If only their loyalty outweighed their desire for more  _money,_ more _connections,_ more of  _anything,_ we wouldn't be in this mess." His angry gaze twisted back onto Axel as he said heatedly, "Everyone has their price, Mister Drake. So what will yours be, when they get to you? I noticed on your resume that you live in lowtown, which makes your chief concern the most easily bought – a bit of money and you'd belong to anyone. Why bother with humanity, when all they will do is turn on you the moment something better comes along?"

Axel took a long moment to absorb this, to think it through. He was skating on very thin ice, there was only about one right answer in a hundred that wouldn't get him thrown straight out and back to the drawing board. He very much wanted this perch from which to hunt his prey, there would be no greater opportunity than the one right here, right now. If Ansem rejected him, he knew he would have a hell of a time coming up with something as simple and clean and moreover constant. The man was on high alert, though, he would detect insincerity a mile off, especially after having had his trust betrayed so frequently already, and he was in no mood to take risks. Ansem was all about his research, every minute of every day, Axel knew this. He had to find a way around it.

He drew in a breath, eyes flicking to the ceiling for inspiration. "Sir… in truth, I have no interest in the science field. It doesn't matter to me who proves what, really, which is probably where you went wrong in the past with your other employees. In the end, it's all just about who the credit goes to." Ansem glowered at him, Axel continuing on regardless, "However, what I do take pride in is my reputation. I know that I have come highly recommended from the employment agency, and  _you_ should know their standard, and the fact that they offer the best jobs around the world. If I were to turn on you, and accept a bribe, the agency would drop me in a heartbeat. Whatever money I could be offered wouldn't be enough in the long run, not with the types of employment I could be gaining further down the track." Ansem was listening, begrudgingly, beginning to see where Axel was going but not quite willing yet to let his resentment go. Speaking absolute truth now, feeling it vibrate in amongst the many lies he told for his entire living, he said simply, "I consider myself incorruptible. My ethics are among the best you will ever encounter. Once I dedicate myself to a task, I follow it through, sir, right to the end. If I was so easily bribed, I would have been bought a long time ago and wouldn't be standing before you right now. In fact, I'd probably be dead already."

It was Ansem's turn to blink, streaks of uncertainty appearing in his expression. Axel wound up for the coup de grace, feeling success quivering within reach. "No offense intended, but I've worked for people with much higher standards than yours, sir, and much bigger secrets for that matter – secrets I had a hope of understanding, no less, unlike the stuff you deal with, which is completely beyond me. I don't know a damn thing about science, I told you that, and I don't care to learn, either, so I wouldn't even know what to look for if I  _did_ decide to weasel on you." Last chance, Ansem was almost bought and Axel had an ace all of his own. Leaning in, displaying some sympathy, some understanding, he said, "I can only imagine how hard it was for you, knowing that secrets were leaking but incapable of finding out which people were behind it. That's why you got rid of everyone, right?" Ansem nodded slightly. Axel nodded back. "Right. No human employees except for the researchers themselves, because they're the least likely to sell their own futures short. But if you  _did_ employ me, and your research was suddenly jeopardised again…" He shrugged. "Well, who else are you going to look at? It's not like I'd have anyone to hide behind. At least you wouldn't have to look far to find whose ass to nail to the wall. And if you think I'm hard up for cash now, just imagine how I'll feel once you've bankrupted me of all my bribery money in court fees." He levelled a steady gaze at Ansem, refusing to waver, willing the man to have just a flash of good faith, even if it was a momentary lapse of judgement,  _anything_ to make him say yes.

The man eyed Axel with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation. He didn't like having to give in, but couldn't move beyond the logic of Axel's argument. "…I can't deny that it's more difficult without anyone handling security on a personal level. We've been having issues that can't be handled simply by cameras and identification…" He squinted at Axel, rubbed his beard with a hint of frustration, then reluctantly reached out his hand, Axel grasping it firmly. "…All right. You're hired. A gentleman's agreement for now, but the paperwork will be done by morning. You can start tomorrow evening."

"That's fast," Axel commented.

Ansem grimaced slightly. "We have more need of you than I would care to admit. That must be why you were sent here, although I still don't know who made the job available…"

"My agency is very adept at finding where its clients are needed," Axel inserted smoothly. "It finds a niche in the market and fills it, sir, it's why I can always trust them to find me a job."

"Indeed." Ansem withdrew his hand from their grasp, flicked his fingers carelessly at the redhead, saying, "Fine, then, be off with you. A security check will be performed and, all going well, your identification cards will be waiting with reception tomorrow. Be here by five p.m., we work through the night. That's all for now, you may go."

Undoubtedly dismissed, Axel took his leave, after only twenty minutes of being interviewed. In the end, the bumps in the road had been unremarkable. He was far more noticeable than he usually liked to be – for someone who preferred to blend with the crowd, being the one and only night security guard was a change of pace – and someone would probably connect the dots between his arrival and Roxas Black's eventual departure after the fact, but considering his getaway car was a fricking time machine, he figured he had little cause for worry.

Returning back down to the building's foyer and out onto the street, Axel tilted his face up and inhaled the last of the sun's amber rays, enjoying the scent of twilight, the feel of dying light on his skin. He had one final stop to make before the rest of the night was his and his alone. He caught a cab across town, to a neighbourhood where darkness had settled deeply, the stars prickling the sky up above. He had the driver drop him off three blocks away from his destination, walking down a driveway that wasn't his until the cabbie had left him there. As the car's taillights dwindled into the distance, Axel paused, hands deep in his pockets, and listened to the night. It was quiet; this was a peaceful little sliver of town, a safer place by far than the basement Axel had taken residence in. It was… placid. And boring. The type of area that could drive a man to drink, or a little creative pyromania – the less time spent here, the better.

In the shadows, he walked the distance to the target's home, eyes and ears on the lookout for passers-by who might take note of him. However, dressed in his smart-casuals, he was apparently above suspicion; there were a few joggers out, one couple walking their dog and a man taking out a bag of trash, but in all cases when Axel crossed paths with them he received either the bland greeting of one stranger to another or was ignored completely. That suited him just fine. He kept to himself, and by the time he reached that target's bungalow it was nearing seven. The house was dark. Axel stuck to the darkness, out of sight, and pondered the front yard and dormant windows, like sleeping eyes, nobody home. Ansem had said that they worked through the night; apparently, Roxas Black was already there, working away on the Cornerstone Theory like a good little puppet.

When he had discovered all he could from a distance, Axel made the decision to take a closer look, checking the surrounding homes for nosy neighbours peering through net curtains before crossing the street. He wished he had his black clothes on, his hunting clothes, with the heavy, dark hood to hide his hair, to melt into the night itself. Dressed as he was he might well blend into the setting, but not for long if he was caught snooping. The clothes didn't maketh the man when the man was found trying to jimmy a window open, even if he happened to be wearing a mink fur coat over a tuxedo. So he had to move fast andwith confidence, like he owned the place, to allay any doubters that happened to spot him, which wasn't easywhen one was trying to perform basic preliminary reconnaissance. He didn't bother heading for the front door, knowing it would most probably be locked and that he would look odd if he went from there to around the side of the house. Instead, he aimed straight for the side gate, grabbing its high edge and hauling himself up and over, dropping with only the slightest of thuds on the other side. With some luck, nobody would have seen, but either way this couldn't take long.

Axel focused his efforts on the exits and locks, inspecting them closely and making mental notes for later. He made a full circuit of the house, following the line of the fence and memorising the general layout, guessing which windows led to which rooms, glimpsing what he could through the dark glass. Roxas Black had an alarm system, which killed Axel's ability to have a quick snoop inside, but that was hardly a setback. He simply factored it into his equations along with everything else he was examining.

At last, satisfied with what he had garnered for now, he let himself back out onto the road, once again keeping out of sight until he was safely far enough away to emerge without anyone noticing. The chances were that nobody saw him from start to finish, but he wasn't about to start taking unnecessary risks, that kind of paranoia was just part of the job. It was how a guy made a living out of dying without being accountable for it.

With nothing left to occupy him, Axel headed back to the apartment in lowtown to make notes and order Chinese food, stopping off only briefly to buy a bottle of whisky to keep him warm through the long hours of plan-building. After that, it was sleep – today had been easy, tomorrow was when the real work began, and he wanted to have all his wits about him when it did.

Tasting of whisky, no grown-up Reno around to pervert it with other flavours this time, Axel slipped into slumber, heart thumping slowly, with the face of Roxas Black swimming through his mind and following him into dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Axel got an earlier start the next day, up by nine-thirty and out the door as soon as he'd washed and changed. First and foremost, he needed what anyone requiring the slightest amount of flexibility did – a car. He couldn't very well spend all his time catching taxis here, there and everywhere, not if he hoped to maintain a shred of anonymity by the time he was through. So for what was hopefully his last cab ride for a while, he caught a lift to the nearest rental place and hired a sedan for a sustained period of time.

Now freely mobile, he commenced a long drive around town, window down and elbow out, navigating streets at random. He explored without thought the various streets and alleyways, passing by shops and businesses, taking in the names, the signs, the general layout and the feel of the city traffic. He gradually developed some direction, looping in broad circles the area in which his target resided, imagining the routes that Roxas Black might take to get groceries, to go to the hospital, to see a movie, and the most logical way to work. He took the direct path, along the freeway, through lines of cars and traffic lights, passing by the exit leading to lowtown, where he himself would be coming out to take the same road to the Research Committee building.

Pulling up in front of his new place of employment, he let the engine idle, eyes lazily observing. It was now nearly noon, the area noisy with human traffic, men and women in business suits hurrying hither and thither, purpose in their every stride. Some of them entered the research building, others were from the surrounding businesses, but everyone had somewhere to be, something to do. They were oblivious to him, he may as well have been waiting for a passenger and a fare for all the notice he got as he sat there at leisure and watched the world go by. At length, he eased away from the curb and again resumed his journey, this time swinging past his basement in lowtown and picking out the swiftest way to Black's homey little bungalow from there. He then found the most inconspicuous route in contrast and drove each path three times, gassing up along the way to keep the rental from petering out on him after only one morning.

Finally feeling that he knew the lay of the land, he headed for home. He would make this effort several more times over the coming weeks, randomly, to ensure that under any circumstances he knew precisely where he was going, or, if not, the best idea of how to get there. His last stop before heading back to his crappy apartment was the nearest hardware store, where he purchased a series of locks and the tools necessary for installing them into his ridiculously flimsy doors. Once back, he got to work, managing to get the job done by mid-afternoon, by which point four shiny, new brass deadlocks glinted out from the faded, peeling wood of the two most important doors, being his bedroom and the front entrance.

Throwing a sweatshirt on over a sawdust-peppered shirt and jeans, he grabbed his keys and wallet and locked the bedroom door behind him. He shoved it to test, first with a hand, then a shoulder, then, carefully, a foot, not wanting to actually kick the door down but wanting to test its resistance. Not bad; he, or anyone else, would have to physically splinter the hinges from the frame to be able to bust in, the locks were just that sturdy. He was pleased – he felt that little bit more confident in leaving his valuables here unattended.

As if in celebration, his stomach started to growl and grumble. He had missed breakfast, and knowing that a happy and well-fed assassin was a productive one, he headed out onto the street. The nearest grocery store being just a short distance away, Axel walked, hands in pockets and eyes casually sweeping his surroundings. Despite being 'lowtown', during the light hours it looked much like any other part of the city, except perhaps a more decrepit, neglected version. He collected a week's worth of groceries and carried them back in gently bumping plastic bags, packing the perishables away into the tiny refrigerator and constructing a couple of sandwiches for himself.

Axel took the brief lull in activity to simply sit and rest, jaw working slowly as he chewed, mind quiet. He was at that point in the job where things had become thoroughly unexciting for a while: the long, placid hours and days that existed before the hit could be made, wherein he was neither really assassin nor truly himself, but play-acting a part that would bring him creeping closer toward his goal. It was a strange twilight of action, nearly boring to the point of coma while at the same time pregnant with greater things to come. He felt like a confused architect, building things up out of nothing, a slow, careful process filled with any number of permutations and obstacles, and all only to later be smashed apart in one fell swoop. He was sure this sort of deeply psychological bullshit was going to have adverse effects mentally, sooner or later – but hey, considering what it was he was here for, he doubted he'd find a sympathetic audience to his issues any time soon.

At ten past four, he left the apartment, having brushed the sawdust from his hair and scrubbed the putty from his fingernails. Ansem had wanted him at the Research Committee building at five, but he figured that for a man like that, arriving fashionably early was probably the way to go. He got there with twenty minutes to spare, directed to the personnel office once again by the secretary in the foyer, where, like déjà vu, Ansem was waiting. He looked out of place in a small room like this, with a desk and some filing cabinets, almost cramped, like a battery scientist instead of free-range in the lab. He greeted with an unimpressed, "You're early; I didn't imagine you as the type to arrive early for anything."

With three months minus one day on the clock, Axel felt that the irony of that statement was just a little too unfair and amusing. "I try, sir." Ansem made a noise as if he didn't believe him – maybe it was the tattoos under Axel's eyes, making him seem less dependable and more like he was going to punk out at any second and 'stick it to the man'. Nevertheless, the man couldn't deny the evidence right in front of him, and gestured impatiently for the redhead to join him on the other side of the desk.

"In any case, it's a stroke of luck that I, too, decided to be prepared for your coming." He rapped his knuckles against a stack of papers on the desk, beside which Axel could see a folded uniform. "I've been readying your way into the company since you left yesterday. I've looked through your entire working history, and along with your impeccable police record, have deemed you safe enough – for now, conditionally – to be formally employed by this company." He said it as though he hadn't, just the day before, already accepted Axel; although, he had to admit, it had only been 'a gentleman's agreement' at the time. This time, paperwork was involved, which meant he was here in a truly official capacity now, and well on his way to putting a bullet through his target. It was always nice when things worked out in Axel's favour.

"I suggest you pull up a chair," Ansem went on, "and get to work on reading and signing these contracts and confidentiality agreements. You won't take a single step into the security sector without it, so if you refuse –"

"I won't refuse, Ansem." He said it patiently, with a small smile, feeling only a tinge of impatience at the man's continuing high suspicion. He did understand it – one had to wonder what exactly had been leaked, and by whom – but it wore thin after a while. Ansem, for his part, levelled Axel with a long, narrow stare.

"…Then that's your last chance gone. Keep in mind that I granted you several, if ever you decide to betray me."

Axel inclined his head, and reached for the desk chair, glancing questioningly at the man, who stiffly stepped aside to allow him to sit. Taking time to settle himself, the redhead pushed a hand through his hair and picked up the first paper-clipped sheaf of documents, quickly flicking through them with a thumb. They were only the first of many, perhaps an hour's work in all of consistent reading and initialling.

Over his shoulder, Ansem said, "I haven't the time to be babysitting you throughout this; I'll send a member of staff to watch over you and assist you in finding where you need to go when you're done. However, keep in mind –" Ansem paused, didn't continue on until Axel glanced up, met his grim gaze, " – that after that, I do not want you fraternising with anyone outside of the research laboratory. You work solely for me, and I want you as isolated in your work as you are in my fragile trust. I will not have you forming acquaintanceships with outsiders. If you do, you will find yourself back with your beloved agency, once again looking for employment. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir." Axel watched Ansem leave with a slight smile in his eyes, finding the man more amusing than anything. It seemed that Ansem fancied himself an intimidating figure; he may have to play up to that and allow the man to continue to believe so, just to keep him happy. His policy was convenient, at any rate – it gave him a legitimate reason to block anyone seeking to get to know him, narrowing down his field of interaction to the group in which he held the interest. Really, Ansem was doing him one favour after another – Axel was almost grateful.

The person that Ansem sent to observe him arrived several minutes into Axel's preliminary reading of the documentation, a pleasant-faced young man with an instamatic camera who introduced himself as "Pence, nice to meet you". He was nobody important, from what Axel knew of his early research into the Theory workforce, and so the man for the most part ignored the boy, pausing only to allow Pence to take his photo to, for fifteen or so minutes, disappear to go and laminate his face onto an identification card. After that, Pence was all but invisible, sitting quietly at the edge of the room without disrupting his progress, to the point where Axel was certain he must be an intern of some kind who had been asked to perform a task no one else could be bothered with. Certainly it had to be boring for him; the paperwork was extensive, it was taking an age to get done, but Axel expected nothing less from what was, in this day and age, a high security project. Once again, it was all simply credit-related, the Research Committee wanted to be the name that claimed ownership of the Cornerstone Theory, and indeed would achieve precisely what it had set out to. This made it a more laborious process to enter into as an employee, however, the minutes sliding by at a crawl as Axel gradually moved through it all. He didn't need to worry so much about reading it all through – it wasn't like he was going to be sticking around – but he nevertheless, out of habit, made sure that it was all as clear and detailed as it should be, that there was nothing hidden within the depths of endless text that would cause him trouble before he was due to vacate.

Eventually, having signed the final line of the last threatening confidentiality agreement, Axel was finished. Pence stood up at the long sigh that he gave, coming over with a smile and glancing over it all with incomprehension. "I can take that for you," he offered, Axel handing him the wedge of papers and levering himself up from the chair. "Professor Ansem said for me to show you to the security locker room once you were done – oh, and here." He gave Axel the ID card he'd made up earlier, a long lanyard hanging from the top of it. "That's supposed to give you access to the bottom-most basement, where Ansem's research takes place. You just – you've gotta – "

He turned it over in Axel's hand, showing him the magnetised strip on the back, the redhead nodding and murmuring, "Gotcha. This is my key, right?" The kid nodded enthusiastically, Axel twisting it back over and studying his face on the front of the card. He would have to cut this up and burn it before he left the era; didn't want any lingering memories of Axel Drake hanging about after he was gone. Everything officially containing his image would be wiped, in time. Tucking it into his hand, he said, "Okay, then – show me the way."

Pence gathered up the uniform on the desk and led the way, the two of them catching the elevator up to the fifth floor, the kid pointing to a slice in the wall behind them and urging, "Swipe your card in here, quick, before someone calls the elevator again." Axel did as he was told, sliding it in and back out, the doors that otherwise made up the rear wall of the car sliding open to allow them entry into the side of the building that was cut off to visitors.

They were in a hallway, Pence once again walking ahead, although with a little less confidence now, as if he didn't come this way too often. They passed by several closed-off doorways, Pence jerking his head towards them and simply commenting, "That's where the regular security guys watch screens and stuff. I don't really know too much about it all, I'm just a temp. I just restock the break room." The kid showed Axel to the locker room at the end of the hallway, waving a hand around and saying, "This is where you can change or shower or whatever at the end of a shift. Don't forget how to get here, 'cause I've heard that you're gonna be the only one left at the end of the night. All the other guys clock off at seven, and I've known some of those research guys to work preeeetty late. Like,  _early_  late, if you know what I mean," he added, with a sympathetic smile over his shoulder. Axel smiled back, glad he wouldn't have to spend too much time with people like this one – far too chipper and congenial, the type to try and make  _friends_ and then find out all about you. The type that sometimes made up collateral damage.

"No problem. I'm a night-owl."

Pence shrugged a little, and went back out to let Axel get changed in privacy. The uniform was a pretty accurate fit, considering Ansem must have guessed his size since the incorrigible man hadn't bothered to ask him – it was a laughable contrast though, and extremely telling. He might have been full of threats and bluster yesterday, and even today, but he obviously hadn't wasted any time making sure that Axel would be a hundred percent ready to go when he got here.

Double-checking that everything was tucked in and smoothed down, he returned to where Pence waited and allowed the bouncing little guy to escort him back to the elevators. Here, however, he saluted from outside the doors and said, "I'm strictly forbidden from the next place, my friend." There, he knew it, the F-word already. "But if you press the very bottom button and use your card, you'll be in the main research lab, where Ansem and his team are working on the Cornerstone Theory." A happy, enthusiastic shine entered his eyes as he added, "Exciting, isn't it? To be where it's all happening?"

"A thrill with every step," Axel drawled, the kid faltering a little at the dryness of his tone. He clapped Pence on the shoulder. "I can take it from here, then. I'll leave you to it, if this is where the kiddie pool finishes and the big-people territory begins. Thanks for all your orientating there, Peter, it was  _super_."

The kid gave a nervous smile. "Oh – no, my name is-"

"I don't care," Axel cheerfully cut him off. He watched Pence's face drop as he pressed the button and the doors slid shut, and was satisfied with his efforts. With luck, he was now an official asshole and of little interest after tonight. As the elevator fell, it picked up and dropped off a couple of passengers, both of whom darted him curious glances as they exited at Ground and left him behind. Axel watched the numbers fall twice more, past B for basement and to B2, where it illuminated and let out a soft  _ding_ to announce his arrival. He swiped his ID card, like the kid had instructed, and the doors, after only the slightest hesitation, slid open to admit him.

He stepped into a cold, concrete corridor, not a basement at all, following it along to a second elevator, this one a far cry from the opulence of the Research Committee's outward appearance. It was little more than a steel cage with cables, a sturdy mesh surrounding it on all sides, with another identification slot that Axel dragged his ID card down. There was a loud buzz as the doors admitted him, and after it waited a moment to allow any and all phantoms travellers to take their positions, the elevator car gave another buzz and shut the doors to begin a smooth downward journey. Axel would hazard a guess that he was being lowered perhaps another two storeys underground, well out of the way now, as if the lab was housing toxic materials rather than being home to one of the greatest medical breakthroughs in fifty years. The dark walls gave way to bright light as the elevator cage reached its nadir with the softest of bumps, then elicited another grating buzz, the sort that made Axel hope to God that coming down here wasn't going to be part of his nightly routine – not, that is, if they all hoped to make it out of this alive. Roxas Black excluded, he supposed.

The doors opened onto a world consisting mostly of a sterile blend of whites, greys and metal. He stepped out, hands unconsciously straightening his uniform – his disguise – as he gazed about. The lab was made up of desks, computers, and test equipment the likes of which he couldn't hope to recognise. Lumbering great machines of various shape and form sat at the edges of the vast subterranean room, two of them with vines growing out of their depths, as if this was part horticultural experiment. He couldn't remember the Cornerstone Theory applying to plants, though.

There was a small collection of men and women within the room, all of whom looked up at his arrival. At first glance, he couldn't see Black. Ansem came over from a large, free-standing computer and reached a hand out, sombrely saying, "Welcome aboard, Mister Drake. I'm glad to see you've made it this far. I suppose this means you're one of us, now, until you go so far as to condemn yourself to thirty or thirty-five years in prison for scientific espionage."

Axel blinked, shaking the proffered hand. No pulled punches here, then. "That's not going to happen, sir. I'm not going to do anything that could get me into that sort of trouble."

Ansem, bless him, still didn't look convinced, but Axel was starting to think that he did it just to cover all his bases, so he could turn around if he was again betrayed and say, "There, I knew that was going to happen!" The redhead allowed himself to be guided further into the lab, eyes flicking around with interest, quickly curbing this as he sensed Ansem's gaze critically upon him, instead focusing on the other people as he approached their workstations. Ansem indicated a woman in a white coat and red high heels, who turned from where she was typing at a computer terminal similar to the one Ansem had been standing at and smiled as she was introduced. "This is Doctor Lucrecia Crescent – she is second in command down here, if ever I am unavailable it is to Lucrecia you should turn. She has a PhD in Immunology and Microbiology, and is a very capable woman." Axel returned her smile, inclined his head, murmured a greeting, eyes already straying to the next person, still unable to see his target.

Ansem led the way onward to the next workbench, saying, "This is our biochemist, Fuu, and beside her, our geneticist, Hollander." The couple in question nodded to Axel, Ansem adding, "Hollander is a former employee of our rival research company, ShinRa. Gaining his skills was quite a coup." Axel fought a smirk – no wonder Ansem was so endlessly afraid of traitors, he  _cultivated_ them, for God's sake, as long as they were on  _his_ side, it would seem. The politics of the scientific community must have been out of control. Ansem continued, walking onward, "Then, of course, there is Belle, our molecular and cellular physiologist –"

"It's lovely to meet you," the woman interjected, with a warm smile, Axel returning the gesture politely.

"-and finally – this is quite a small, informal group, I'm sure you've noticed – there is our recent graduate of biophysics, Roxas…" Axel's heart leapt, pulse beating just the slightest bit faster, a tiny burst of adrenaline for the predator being within range of his prey. He then jumped as Ansem barked,  _"Roxas!"_ He still couldn't see Black, didn't notice him until Ansem stalked across the room to one of the machines with the greenery flowing out, noticing only now that there was half a body sticking out from a porthole-type opening from which sickly-looking palm fronds were showing. The half-body jerked, the legs and ass of Roxas Black being Axel's first impression of his newest target. A moment later, the top half withdrew itself from within the machine – an incubator of sorts – and Axel saw a smallish back, a slender neck, the back of a ruffled blond head, and then, as the target turned to look over his shoulder at them, a pair of the bluest eyes he could ever remember encountering. Reno's grainy pictures hadn't managed to capture that aspect of Roxas Black, but then Axel doubted that any visual medium ever really could. This was one of those… up close and personal things.

The kid didn't look quite old enough to be stuck in a lab like this,alternating glances between his boss and Axel, trying to fix his hair a little and look suitably contrite, with Ansem berating, "I sent out a memo to have all such things locked away from sight while our visitor was coming through the laboratory, only for you to have it out on full display! I am  _incensed,_ this is precisely the sort of mistake that keeps getting us into trouble, and I-"

Axel tuned him out, concentrating on Roxas Black. He was a short build, no obvious muscle, with an innocent sort of look to him, though that could have been the eyes building that illusion against his will. He was obviously intelligent, to be where he was, and dedicated to his work judging by the way he blatantly disregarded Ansem's instructions despite Axel's coming. He also didn't appear to be intimidated by the verbal assault washing over him, making all the right noises and nodding his agreement with Ansem but at the same time continuing to look at Axel, thoroughly unperturbed. Perhaps these lectures were a common occurrence, suggesting that he liked to occasionally break rules, although not to the extent of sacrificing integrity considering he had been with the project right to its completion. So he was a beat-of-his-own-drum type; Axel could respect that.

He was dressed slightly more casually than the others, wearing jeans and a black sweater under his white lab coat. What had Ansem called him? Their recent graduate of biophysics? That hadn't been in the report Reno had given him. He had only been recorded as a 'minor' part of the research team, which Axel supposed he must be if he was some recent college graduate – but then, who would want to kill him? It was… a curiosity. Another thing that didn't quite add up about this job.

Ansem was digressing. "-total waste of time and resources, with time against us and the budget getting out of hand, and  _no_ sign of definitive progress in  _months –"_

Axel chose this moment to loudly clear his throat, Ansem's face swinging around to glare at him and demand, "Are you still here?" Then, obviously catching himself and making an effort to rein in his temper, the man took a deep breath and released it, amending, "That is to say – I hadn't meant for this to last long. I brought you here to introduce you to the research members so you could familiarise yourself with their names and faces. You will also be given copies of their personnel records, with their identification card photographs, so there should be no reason for anyone outside of the team to be granted access to this laboratory – but I wanted you to know them in the flesh, first." His tone became testy again. "And, as I was saying, this is Roxas Black, our final member. Roxas, since you  _obviously_ missed the memo, this is Axel Drake, who will be overseeing our team's  _security_  in future."

Axel held out his hand, Roxas grasping it firmly, a little clammy from the exertion of whatever he had been doing inside the incubator. "Nice to meet you," the blond said.

"The pleasure's mine," Axel smiled. Their hands came apart, the lingering residue of Roxas' sweat clinging to his palm, Axel again getting that tingling feeling, almost excitement, that moment of first contact having been made and his target virtually in his sights.

"Roxas is merely an assistant researcher on the project," Ansem explained, grasping Axel by the elbow and steering him away from the blond, back towards the lab's entrance now that all the introductions had been made. "He was chosen from a group of four hundred applicants, so he's a bright enough boy, but has a lot to learn before he can claim to be a true researcher. He of course has signed all of the same waivers as the rest of the team, so he is no risk, not if he wants a future in this profession." Axel turned his head, taking one last look at Roxas, who was watching them walk away. The blond gave a little wave, and then Axel was being passed over to Lucrecia Crescent, Ansem tersely commanding, "Escort him back up to the security room, come straight back."

"Of course, Professor." Lucrecia's touch was far gentler, her hand winding into Axel's arm and tugging to make him continue walking. They entered the elevator, the harsh buzzing once again piercing Axel's head as it sounded out for each motion of the doors. Instead of leading him all the way down the concrete corridor again, however, the woman paused at a steel door that Axel had briefly noticed on the way in. It stood beside a broad, shuttered window, the doctor pulling out a set of keys and unlocking the door, opening it, leaning inside and turning on a light before stepping back. She smiled at Axel, gesturing for him to enter, the redhead venturing in as the halogen lights flickered and hummed to life, displaying a small security room with a set of monitors sitting blankly against one wall. Against the wall where the window stood, reflecting the office back in on itself, there was a long desk, two chairs, and a computer. That was it. He could see a scoop at the base of the window, with a metal cover blocking it off from the corridor, and, confirming the creeping suspicions he was beginning to form, Lucrecia told him, "That window is bullet-resistant, Mister Drake, and the door has extra deadlocks on the inside for your convenience. We haven't had an attack in a very long time," she hastened to say, at the disbelieving expression on his face, "in fact, not since before my time here at the Research Committee… But sometimes attempts are made to gain information by violent means, and this room is set up to protect you, and allow you to isolate the research laboratory until the authorities arrive."

Axel gazed around with fresh eyes, bemusement in his voice as he said, "Who knew the research business was so –  _aggressive."_

Lucrecia sighed. "It's surprising, isn't it? This is a highly competitive field, and sometimes there are those that go too far in their search for truth."

The search for personal glory, more like – but he was hardly in a position to cast the first stone. Still, there'd been nothing of this in the preliminary data. Like she'd said, it wasn't like there was going to be  _need_ of it, but usually the Organisation could dig this sort of thing up ahead of time, to give its operatives the best knowledge possible of what they were heading into. This damn mission was beginning to make a  _habit_ out of rolling out the unexpected, and while Axel hadn't yet grown impatient of it, he got the feeling that he would need to be more on guard than usual for a while to come.

"From here, you will also be responsible for allowing access to the research team to the laboratory, by registering their identification cards," she pointed to a scanner device beside the computer, "here, and then opening the lab elevator by pressing this." She showed him an orange button installed in the wall to the side of the window, within reach from behind the desk. "Up until now we have been using the elevator manually, but with you here we can start relying on the security measure of it again. It's all very straight-forward, it shouldn't take you long to get the hang of it." She checked the delicate golden watch hanging from her wrist, said, "It's just after six-thirty, which means that, as I'm sure you've been told, the regular security services will be leaving for the night in just under half an hour." She shook her sleeve back over her watch. "Our team members are always here by that time, to avoid having to use the janitorial entrances around the far side of the building, so you don't need to worry about letting anyone in tonight, we're all already here. Once the security for the rest of the building leaves, though, the main elevator will only work between this floor and the first basement, which is, incidentally, the company's underground parking lot." She went over to the monitors and pressed a master switch to activate them, the screens blinking to life. She pointed to them one by one. "There are twelve cameras in the underground parking, split between these two screens. This one shows you the Ground floor, just in case there is an unauthorised entry from above, which you will be alerted to by a silent alarm leading directly to all security stations. This shows the main elevator," her nail tapped a fourth screen, "this one the freight elevator that we use to gain access to the laboratory," she flicked the fifth, "and this monitor here shows you permanent footage of the corridor." She folded her hands and smiled at him. "Have you got all that?"

"Sure," Axel said, wondering how a scientist knew so damn much about how the entire security sector operated. "But what about the lab itself?"

"Ah." She shook her head firmly. "No, I'm sorry – once the team is out of the freight elevator, you'll just have to trust that we're okay down there, there is  _no_ video footage within the laboratory itself, to protect the projects that take place within it. If there were cameras watching us work, it would be far too easy for that footage to go astray." Axel nodded slowly. "If we have any concerns, however –" Lucrecia picked up a phone receiver from the other side of the computer, its curled cord bouncing slightly as she held it up to show him. "This is our direct line, we can call you, you can call us, just pick it up and press zero. We can easily communicate, so there's no reason for you to worry."

She checked her watch again, eyebrows drawing inward a little. "I'll need to get going in a minute, Axel, I'm sorry. I don't want to keep Professor Ansem waiting." The keys jingled in her hand as she leaned over the desk to unlock the great, gleaming padlock that secured the window's metal cover, sliding it up so that Axel could see the grey corridor out beyond it. "I'll leave you with the keys," she said, sounding strained as she stretched up to make sure the shuttering didn't slam as it reached the roof. She blew out a breath as she settled back down onto her heels, pushing a lock of hair away from her eyes and giving him one last smile. "It's going to be good to have you around; we've been taking care of all this ourselves for much too long, it's one less thing to have to worry about." She patted his arm, pulled out the chair in front of the computer for him to sit in, pushing him in towards the desk as he did. "Good luck, Axel, I'll see you again at the end of the night. All you'll need to do, once everyone has left the company property, is shut off the monitors and lock this room up after you. Easy!"

Lucrecia deposited the keys on the edge of the desk, pressed the orange button to open the elevator – he heard it buzz from the end of the passageway – and left him there to process everything he had been instructed in. His eyes strayed sideways to the security screens as a flicker of motion caught his attention, watching Lucrecia stride down the corridor in black and white and enter into the freight elevator. He studied her as she stood in place, the grinding of the elevator car travelling down to him, growing more distant as it lowered deeper into the ground. A minute later, she disappeared from view, out into the vague glow that poured in from the laboratory.

The rest of the night was quiet. Axel familiarised himself with the interior of the office, wondering about whether to bring any weapons from home to keep around the place, but deciding, in the end, not to. It would probably end up biting him in the ass, since the last thing he wanted to do was make Ansem in any way suspicious of him, all over again. He studied the screens on display, but throughout the night there was little movement. He caught sight of a janitor or two slowly cleaning the foyer upstairs, but evidently they counted as 'authorised' since there was no alarm going off, and so he merely memorised their faces and let the night continue onward.

From three a.m., the members of the research team began a slow trickling exit, one by one going past, a couple waving, others ignoring him now that the official introductions were done with. Roxas Black was the second-last to leave, his voice muffled through the glass as he wished Axel a good night, Axel's eyes stuck to his image as each security camera filmed him, all the way up until he climbed into his car and drove away.

At four, Ansem came upstairs, opening the door suddenly, saying, "You should have locked this – nobody should be able to enter unannounced."

"You weren't unannounced, sir," Axel pointed out, throwing a thumb over towards the security monitors. "I could see you coming."

"Nevertheless," the man scowled, "in future, keep this locked from the moment you enter until the moment you leave. And speaking of which – I am going home now. I have locked up the laboratory, so don't even think of trying to go down there. Wait until I have left the building, and then you may begin locking up your station." He straightened his coat, no longer science-white but brown, ready for the outside world, and with a scarf over the top, no less. He almost looked normal, except for the glower he had levelled Axel's way. "Remember, though – even though you may not be watching the screens, the cameras are still watching  _you,_ so anything you do after I am gone you will be held accountable for. Make sure to keep that in mind."

With that cheerful point made, Ansem slammed the door behind him, continuing down the hallway, catching the elevator up to the parking lot. Axel blew out a long sigh, watching him leave, finding it a much less satisfying experience than when Roxas was on the screen.

Roxas. As he waited for Ansem to get the hell off of company property, Axel mulled over his impression of his target. Underwhelming, to be sure – he was young, trusting, and inclined to be friendly. Those eyes struck a chord, but nothing else about the kid seemed out of the ordinary, except for the fact that he was smart enough to get into a place like this straight after college. Axel couldn't imagine what part he played in the Cornerstone Theory research project that warranted a death sentence… but then, it wasn't his place to question. He didn't  _need_ to understand it – he just had to get it done, and then vanish. It was the simplicity of being a gun-for-hire, as it were, and that was all he had to remember, all the way until it was time to go home.

Speaking of home – Ansem's car had left the premises, allowing Axel to pull down the metal shutter, replace its padlock, switch off the bank of monitors and let himself out. He exited the building into the underground parking lot, walking through it, shoes echoing, realising as he shivered that he had left his clothes upstairs in the locker room, folded on a bench. Damn it – that Pence kid hadn't said anything about access to the upper reaches being closed off once regular security was gone. He would have to bring a bag to store his day clothes in, and at the end of the night change in the guard station once everyone had left.

He followed the parking lot up and out onto the street, ducking under the automated boom gate that blocked off entry except to those, it appeared, who had ID. Those ID cards were dependable, you sure as hell wouldn't want to lose it or have it stolen, it was the only way anybody  _moved_ in a place like this. It was also pretty much their biggest flaw. No wonder they had wanted him in the security station – with one of those cards, anybody could get in and do whatever they wanted. They needed that sort of gross oversight balanced out by a third party, which of course would be where all the security-related corruption had entered into it forcing Ansem to eliminate the entire human body of security in the  _first place…_ Basically, it was a bit of a clusterfuck, in his opinion, and he didn't know why they hadn't scrapped and replaced the whole system. But, far be it from him to try and change the future… in ways he wasn't being paid to.

He found his car, looking lonely on the side of the road near the Research Committee building, and got in feeling sleepy. He sat there for a minute, running the motor and the events of the night through his mind. It had been – a reasonably calm night. Boring, really. He had made contact, and knew exactly where to find Roxas Black at the end of the day, but now the challenge remained to know when it was that he made the discovery that was apparently so crucial to the Cornerstone Theory. He would have to keep his eyes and ears open, and perhaps cultivate a relationship of sorts with the kid. That shouldn't be too hard – Roxas didn't seem like a closed-off person, he had been amicable enough... By keeping close, Axel could both ensure that he was aware of any great breakthroughs in the Theory while at the same time set himself up to be able to take Black out of the picture at a moment's notice. He liked it; it was a solid plan.

For now, it was home and bed. Tomorrow, he would begin the process of getting closer to Roxas, and get things into position for… later days.

 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Axel allowed himself a sleep-in following the near-dawn finish of the security job, opening bleary eyes to warm afternoon light struggling to fill the bedroom through the single tiny, street-level window. A sigh floated up from his lips, hands rubbing at his eyes, dragging through his hair as it lay scrunched against the pillow, tugging out some slumber-induced knots. He lay still for a while, gazing at the ceiling and allowing his mind to return to awareness gradually, the previous night slowly filling in, in detail. The target was barely more than a kid, so recently out of college and with such innocent blue eyes. Axel wondered what it was that he did in that lab; what exotic role did he play in the Cornerstone Theory that ended up with him dead at the end of it? Another curiosity, among the many piling on top of each other one by one.

Out of bed, and breakfast at three-thirty, a bowl of cereal drenched in milk to set him up for the night ahead. He would need to pack a 'lunch' to take with him – he couldn't see Ansem allowing him to skip off to pick something up mid-shift, and he was going to get mighty thin if he only ate twice a day. With bowl and spoon, Axel walked to the couch and plopped down, a lonely picture as he sat there in his cotton pants with no one to talk to and nothing to read. He scooped up a spoonful of wheat flakes, crunching noisily through them, muttering to the empty room, "I need a TV."

There was half an hour spent showering, dressing in yesterday's uniform, and updating his notes on the people and organisation involved in the job, then Axel was out the door, fresh as a daisy and ready for another late night. As he drove through the lowtown streets, he watched the dimming daylight cast shadows across the buildings and alleyways, not yet lit with their night-time neon revival. When Sunday came, his night off, he would check the area out in more detail; not, of course, for the pleasure of it, no. Axel refrained from drinking socially during a job, it could loosen the tongue and land a man in very hot water. But for the sake of knowing his surroundings, and familiarising himself with the sorts of characters that wandered the dark streets, he would perform a bit of… leisurely reconnaissance. It would at least give him something to look forward to, a break from the out-and-out dullness that he could expect from life if every night was going to be the same as last night. A man like Axel needed to feel a bit of fire in his veins from time to time, or he was liable to start acting recklessly simply out of a need to shake things up.

He got to the Research Committee building with time to spare before his shift, a shopping bag containing his lunch swinging from one hand as he crossed the foyer and entered one of the several shiny elevators. He rode it up, like he had yesterday with the temp kid, exiting at the fifth floor and following the hallway along to the locker room, hoping his clothes were still where he'd left them. He'd have to talk to Ansem about getting more uniforms, too – he wasn't going to get by too well on just the one, not if he didn't want Roxas to smell him coming.

The locker room was cool, fluorescent lights humming overhead, a couple of moths fluttering around the bright tubes. Axel's steps echoed as he retraced his path back to where he'd changed yesterday evening, stopping and frowning when he found his clothes were no longer there. The plastic bag crinkling in his grasp, he twisted on the spot, glancing around to see if they'd been placed elsewhere, and was crouching to peer under the long wooden benches when the door opened with a bang. Axel glanced back over his shoulder, rising and straightening as three men entered the locker room, the tallest of them holding what looked remarkably like Axel's street clothes. When his gaze fell upon Axel, an unpleasant smirk twisted his mouth.

"Well, well – if it isn't the new night watchman."

Axel regarded him for a moment, turned to face them, then calmly said, "I don't think we've met."

The guy let out a,  _"Hah!"_ then said, "The name's Seifer, Almasy. I'm the  _normal_ security around here, the type that doesn't spend all night babysitting geeks in the basement." He jerked his blond head towards the hulking figure to his right. "This is Rai, and Vivi," the diminutive guy to his left actually waved a little, "who are  _also_ regular daytime security." He sneered at Axel. "Been working hard, all night on your ass?"

Axel stared, his gaze ticking from one face to another, then to the clothes Seifer was holding. "I think you've got something that belongs to me." Seifer looked briefly pissed that his antagonism was being ignored – ooh, Axel didn't know how he was keeping his temper in check, nasty taunts like that – but then settled back into what Axel figured must be his default expression of a smirk.

Seifer indicated the clothing. "What, this old outfit? Nah, man – I brought these from home. Didn't I, boys?"

"Hell yeah, y'know?" The beefy guy, Rai, contributed his well thought out two cents, leaving Axel wondering if he'd somehow managed to drop unwittingly down the rabbit hole into Shallow End of the Gene Pool-Land. "Those're Seifer's – y'know?"

Axel waited a moment, letting them hang in suspense as they waited for his reaction… then shrugged. "Okay. My mistake, I guess. Maybe one of the janitorial staff found them and put them somewhere. Wonder if there's a lost and found…?" He made as if to leave, sidling by the trio and heading for the door. He was stopped, sharply, by Seifer's hand wrapping around one arm, jerking him back a rough step.

"Are you stupid or something?" The blond obviously wasn't used to being brushed off. Axel couldn't imagine why not – it was the only way to deal with dicks like this, and more people should've cottoned on to that by now. Take away the big hysterical response, and you stripped a guy like this of all his power. All his ego, too, which evidently didn't go down well.

He levelled a cold gaze at Seifer, said, "I wouldn't know, there's no one smarter than me around to judge it."

Seifer's eyes widened, grip tightening hard enough to hurt as he demanded, "What are you, a tough guy?"

Axel pressed his teeth together, beginning to lose patience with the farce. He turned his face fully towards Seifer now, expression dropping, chilling, allowing the idiot a momentary glimpse of what lay beyond his calm night watchman exterior, and asked in return, "…What are you, suicidal?"

As Seifer stared, Rai stepped in, jabbing a finger at Axel, nearly digging it into his cheek as he demanded, "You tryin' to  _threaten_  Seifer or somethin'?"

Axel let the question linger in the air between he and Seifer for just a moment too long, then relaxed. "Definitely not. I'm not a threatening kind of guy. Seifer isn't threatened by someone like me – are you, Seifer?"

Seifer hesitated, then threw Axel's arm away, spitting, "Of course not – a chicken-wuss like this guy? He won't even admit he knows we stole his clothes. Too afraid of the confrontation, huh, chicken-wuss?"

Axel dutifully parroted, "Too afraid," then checked his watch, saying, "I need to get downstairs. Ansem doesn't like it when I'm late."

The big guy looked like he was ready to jump in at Seifer's command, but was puzzled when the word was never given, the trio allowing Axel to leave the locker room unmolested. He hadn't got his clothes back – he doubted he ever really would, and wouldn't trust them if they did happen to be returned, God only knew what would have been done to them – but he wasn't too bothered. In the grand scheme of things, one set of clothing didn't make much of an impact, and he'd nicely side-stepped the inter-office rivalry that was a couple of idiots with nothing better to do. Morons. They'd never amount to anything more than they were in this moment, and Axel didn't need to be from the future to know that.

He headed back to the elevators, riding the closest one downstairs and into the B2 corridor. He unlocked the guard station, opening up the steel shutter, switching on the monitors and computer, and, following Ansem's tetchy orders from the previous night, locked the door again behind him to prevent any unofficial entry. From there, it was a matter of sitting on his only semi-comfortable chair and waiting for the scientists to arrive. As the minutes stretched by, he realised, with a dawning sense of gloom, that this was possibly the least stimulating job he'd ever performed. He was an assassin, a phantom of the night, a Grim Reaper with the biggest savings account anyone at this self-obsessed little hovel of a research building had ever seen… and yet here he sat, contemplating the fluffy navel of the universe, with nothing but some girlie magazines he'd spotted under the desk to occupy his hungry, lethal mind. Why was there never a self-destruct button in places like this? The only button he got to push was bright orange, and opened a set of doors further down the corridor. He was going to lose his mind.

It was a fortunate thing that as his thoughts began to spiral, the first of the lab team arrived, cutting into his field of vision and jolting him from his building restlessness. Dr. Crescent smiled through the thick plate glass at him, a slight question in her expression, Axel blinking and returning to the moment at hand. "Good evening, Doctor."

"Good evening, Axel," she pleasantly greeted, dropping her identification card into the scoop at the base of the window. Axel undid the bolt holding the metal slide shut, drawing the card in to his side of the glass and plucking it out, running it through the scanner to register and approve her in the system. With a gentle chime, her professional profile appeared on the computer screen, complete with photograph and personal details.

"You take a nice photo, Doctor," Axel commented, Lucrecia letting out a soft laugh.

"Why, thank you, I'm flattered." She took back her ID as Axel slid the metal tray back through the scoop before pressing the orange button for the elevator. He heard the distant, grating buzz of it announcing a change in conditions, the doctor continuing on her way with another smile and a wave of her fingers. "Have a good night, Axel." She was like the anti-Ansem, Axel mused; high on the command chain, yet unaffected by it egotistically. He could get used to dealing with someone so easy-going.

In much the same way as they had left the building last night, the research team arrived to it in drips and drabs, the deadline for check-in obviously being flexible in nature. He repeated the process with each member, briefly studying their profiles as they popped up on the computer, doing his best to memorise what he could of those he was dealing with over the next few months.

Roxas Black was fifth to arrive. Axel saw him on the monitors, had been looking out for him, making sure to take mental note of the type and model of car he drove. Sharp green eyes followed his progress through the underground parking lot and into the building, and as he started down the corridor, the distant sound of his footsteps matching up with his pace on the monitor, Axel readied himself to be friendly, warm, and wholly likeable. It was therefore something of a shock when the blue-eyed blond turned up outside the window and, instead of smiling easily like he had last night, greeted Axel with a cool gaze and complete lack of interest.

"How's it going?" Axel asked amiably. Roxas dropped his ID card into the slot with a tinny clatter.

"Fine." It was like a chill breeze over a winter's landscape. Axel took his time transferring the ID into the guard station, eyeing Roxas through the glass, the boy staring back flatly.

"Uhh…" Axel swiped his card, Roxas' profile coming up, far more agreeable on the screen than it was in person at this point in time. "Hey – you take a nice picture," Axel offered, hoping for a Dr. Crescent-esque response as an ice-breaker.

"Right." Roxas glanced away, looking down the corridor impatiently. Axel's eyes narrowed as he slowly reached for the orange button.

Feeling a creeping shadow of suspicion, he attempted, "Long night ahead, huh?"

Roxas shrugged a little, apparently determined to avoid interaction. "Probably." The buzz echoed down, Axel pausing for a minute, watching the boy closely. When his ID wasn't immediately forthcoming, Roxas was forced to look back at him, Axel's gaze careful, something dark flickering inside of him as he studied the boy. What was in there, what was in there…?

"My  _card,_ please." Disdain came oozing through the window.

…It wasn't fear, then. Okay. That was fine. The dark flame died down, Axel relaxing a little, but frowning at the tone, not to mention the complete flip in personality. This was – dislike. Roxas was acting like Axel was a piece of crap on his shoe, revealing a cold side that hadn't been evident during their first meeting. On top of that, Axel had  _no idea_ where it was coming from. Had the kid been drunk last night? Had he slept on it and decided that he was too smart to be nice to a security guard? What the hell had spawned such treatment?

He returned the card to the tray, sliding it back to the other side of the window, and had to ask, "…You okay, kid?"

Roxas rolled his eyes, snatched up his ID and departed without another word. Axel sat there for a stunned moment, able only to turn his gaze towards the security monitors in time to see Roxas enter the elevator and head downward. Once he entered the lab, that was it, he was gone, leaving Axel with nothing but the most overwhelming sense of bewildered frustration. He was almost offended by the kid, but more than anything – how was he supposed to forge some kind of link with Roxas to keep an eye on him if the guy suddenly couldn't stand him?

"Curiouser and curiouser," he growled to himself, blasting out a sigh and glaring at the computer screen, from which Roxas' pleasant face continued to smile. He would have to wait it out, and see what happened, how this could be salvaged. He didn't like the idea of having to lurk around Roxas unseen for the duration of the job; the margin of reliability would plummet regarding whenever the hell the kid made whatever discovery he was supposed to. This would  _really_ work better if he could just find some way to make friends, get into the kid's confidence – or had at least been given a bit more goddamn information about the discovery in the first place.

Ansem was the last one to arrive, sweeping his way down the corridor, stopping abruptly and eyeing Axel through the thick glass. "Good evening, sir," the redhead dutifully greeted, as Ansem dropped his ID into the metal scoop.

"Is the door locked tonight?" Ansem's muffled voice asked.

"It is, sir, I took your criticism on board and have learned from it." Axel swiped the card, Ansem's profile popping up, and pressed the orange button for the elevator doors.

"And you're having no trouble with what is expected of you?"

Axel refrained from pointing out that a  _monkey_ wouldn't have trouble with his nightly checklist, instead reporting, "Not at all, sir, Doctor Crescent was very thorough, I've got it all under control. However, I could do with a few more uniforms."

"Uniforms?" He almost sounded disapproving, glancing Axel up and down as though forgetting that this wasn't actually what the redhead chose to wear. "Ah. Yes." He shook down his sleeve and checked his watch. "You're too late for tonight; I'll have someone leave a note for the temp agency boy. He can fetch you a few more uniforms tomorrow, I'll have him meet you when you arrive."

Ah, yes, the temp kid: Axel's newest, bestest friend. "Thank you, sir. It's appreciated." He returned Ansem his ID, the man continuing on without further comment. For several minutes, Axel stared at the security monitors and listened to the grinding of the elevator, followed by echoing silence.

So, this was the rest of his night, then.

He supposed this was where the girlie magazines came into play. He dragged one out, dissatisfied, wondering why he hadn't thought to bring a book. Tomorrow, he supposed despondently. The rest of the night dragged by, Axel becoming well acquainted with the articles and weekly columns in his dusty supply of thoroughly uninteresting porn. Dawn approached almost without him noticing; the night had crawled by so incredibly slowly that Axel had stopped marking time. There was simply so little to  _do_ here. Whatever interest had existed in observing the janitorial staff was long over, and they had all already gone home, anyway. If he'd at least been given a glimpse into the laboratory itself, that would have given something vaguely entertaining to look at – but empty parking lot, empty corridor, empty elevator, empty ground floor, empty fucking  _everything,_ had just about frozen his conscious mind into a state of coma. It therefore startled him slightly when members of the research team finally did begin appearing, captured by the cameras, a quick check of the clock revealing that five a.m. had been penetrated.  _Finally._ He had been waiting all damn  _night_ for this moment to come – he had to see Roxas again, to gauge what the hell his behaviour was this side of midnight. Maybe the kid was huffing some kind of chemical fumes down there that chilled him  _way_ the fuck out and turned him pleasant by the end of the evening – which would benefit Axel quite spectacularly, really.

It was a disappointment, then, when Roxas went by without a single glance in his direction, even when Axel made the effort of calling out a friendly good-bye. He had definitely been heard, there was no doubt about it, which meant that this had become something very deliberate, very calculated, and unfortunately very much sober. No quick fixes for this particular issue, alas.

By the time the final employee had left – Dr. Crescent, flipping a tired wave at nearly six in the morning, first in and last out – Axel had decided that enough was enough. He was going to tackle this head-on, no more sitting around… figuratively, at least. If Roxas had some kind of problem with him,  _already,_ then he was going to find out what it was and get to the bottom of this. There was no reason to let it drag on, and while it certainly felt, at moments like this, like he had an eternity stretching ahead of him, in actuality three months just wasn't long enough to let the kid come around in his own time – this had to be nipped at the bud.

When Axel had closed up shop and finally got out to his car, the sun was popping up over the horizon, sending a golden glow over the city. He squinted against it, shuffled to his car, drove home with the window down and the wind whistling in his ears. The first thing he did upon reaching his apartment was add to his notes – a huge question mark dominated the page, accompanied by a little angry face. He tucked the book back into his suitcase under the bed, flopped onto the sheets and blankets, and stared up at the ceiling. So, here he was again, back under the same roof, no further forward and in fact feeling like he'd taken about twenty paces back. He didn't like it, wasn't used to it, and was going to damn well change it. That was what he did, right? Changed things, changed the past to change the future. So changing the whims of one insignificant little blond, who had no representation in the river of time except as a paycheque for someone else's efforts at the end of the day… that wasn't going to be too difficult. Axel had seen more and knew more than that kid could ever begin to guess at; he wasn't about to be defeated by some college graduate with an unknown bug up his butt. No way, no how.

Axel's eyes gleamed, the thrill of the hunt slowly bubbling back up within him like a cauldron over a blazing hot fire. He was going to relish this, learn from it, and overcome it; there was no longer any doubt in his mind.

Roxas would learn to love him before he died.

 


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Axel got to work a little earlier and a little more prepared the next evening. He had stopped off at a department store and bought a duffle bag for his uniforms, as well as a collection of novels, newspapers from every available news group, and a book of road maps to study, to get to know the area better. To his pleasure, the temp kid, Pence, was waiting for him when he arrived, lurking around the elevators obviously in the hope of catching him before he went downstairs for his shift. Excellent – this meant he wouldn’t have to endure the receptionist and actually ask where to find him.

He approached Pence, who was looking awkward just hanging around like some kind of delinquent in amongst all the suits who came and went via the elevators. Upon spotting him, Pence’s expression didn’t improve much. With a grimacing twist of his mouth, he lifted a hand as though to catch Axel’s attention, despite the fact that the man was making a beeline for him. The second he was within earshot, Axel asked, “Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater. Ever heard that one before?”

The kid sighed. “My name is _Pence.”_

“No, it’s not.” Axel slung his duffel bag onto one shoulder, cocking a hip and smirking down at the kid.

Pence looked back with annoyance and some barely concealed dislike. “So, like, I’m supposed to get you some more uniforms, I guess.”

“So, like, I guess you are. Hop to it, Pumpkin Boy, I’ve got a long night ahead of me.”

With a huff and a glare, Pence obediently pressed the elevator call button, the doors sliding apart to admit them with the obligatory _ding._ The ride up to the fifth floor was made in silence, the kid looking determinedly at the wall of buttons as though trying to pretend that the jackass beside him didn’t exist. When they stopped, the number five aglow, Pence was the first one to step out, trying to put some distance between them, but immediately upon turning the corner there came a drawling, self-satisfied voice. “Well, well, _well,_ what’s a douchebag little chicken-wuss like _you_ doing up here after curfew? Aren’t you meant to be all tucked up in your nice-y warm-y bed-bed, baby Pence?”

“Yeah, baby Pence, y’know?”

Axel took his time stepping out, enjoying the sudden silence that his presence commanded, Seifer’s face dropping from its nasty sneer at the sight of him. “Evening, gentlemen,” the redhead calmly greeted, tipping a two-fingered salute from his forehead.

“What the hell do _you_ want?” Seifer demanded, a savage note of petulance in his voice. Axel shrugged easily.

“I’m just picking up some clothes. I have this habit of – not quite having enough of them. Oh, well, though.” He balled his hand into a fist and popped it into Pence’s shoulder to get him moving, the kid stumbling forward a step with a whine. “Continue on, temp kid.”

Rubbing his shoulder, Pence did as he was told, passing through the trio of Seifer, Rai, and the quiet Vivi, looking slightly amazed when they parted to let him by. Axel followed after him, feeling cocky, Seifer’s little gang left muttering among itself as they resumed their progress down the corridor. After a silent few moments, Pence ventured, with some awe, “How – how did you do that?”

A corner of Axel’s mouth curled upward, but he didn’t glance down, simply saying, “Eyes forward, Pumpkin. I’m not here for the wit and sparkling conversation.”

Frustrated, reminded of why he didn’t like Axel, the kid did as he was told, grumpily leading the way to the locker room. He shoved the door open, Axel having to catch it to prevent it from smacking him in the face, while Pence meanwhile had gone to stand by one of the lockers, waiting impatiently for him to catch up. Amused, Axel joined him, Pence holding up a single key on a thin key-ring. “This is your locker now. Ansem got me to get five more uniforms from the storage room, they’re in here, you just have to make sure you lock up each time you use it because if you lose any, you have to pay for them. Okay? Okay.”

He tossed the key to Axel, and was already almost out of the locker room by the time Axel said, “Okay…” As he was passing through the door, Axel twisted, called out, “Thank you, Peter!”

The door banged shut.

With a grin, feeling rather satisfied with himself for the time being, Axel unlocked his newly appointed storage space, pulling out a plastic-wrapped, dry-cleaned uniform from the slender stack within. He changed out of his street clothes, stuffing them into his duffel, and with his employee ID lanyard around his neck and the hair tugged out of his collar, Axel was ready to roll.

He headed back out to the elevator, Seifer and company nowhere in sight, and caught a ride down to the basement to set himself up for the night to come. His books were stacked neatly in the shelf underneath the desk, on top of the lacklustre porn of the yester-guards, with his newspapers folded and put to one side. He drew out his lunch, packed into a brown paper bag, and set it over at the edge of the desk, out of the way. At least the risk of complete and utter mind-numbing boredom would be held at bay, for the present. He was ready for the long stretches of nothing to do; now it was just a matter of being ready for Roxas.

As with yesterday, the lab team took their time arriving, some looking as though they had just rolled out of bed as they shuffled down the hallway and got Axel to register their ID in the system. This time, Roxas was third to appear on the security monitors, Axel sitting straighter at the sight of him, mouth thinning, jaw set with determination. Things were about to change in his favour – he would make sure of it. As the kid finally turned up outside his window again, Axel put on a smile, poured all his known charm into it, and said, “Hey, there.”

Roxas grunted in response, slapping his identification into the metal scoop between them. Axel inhaled, slid the card through to his side of the window, and picked it up. He then held on to it, making no move towards the scanner, instead keeping his eyes on the boy and waiting. Again, like the previous night, Roxas eventually noticed the lack of activity on the other side of the glass and swung around to glare coolly at Axel. “The piece of plastic goes into the little device by your elbow, genius. Do it, then press the pretty orange button. Or is that too difficult for you?”

Axel smiled faintly. “Are you always this pleasant? Or do I just bring out the best in you?”

Roxas made a sardonic noise. “I doubt you bring out the best in anyone. Can you swipe my card? Today, maybe?”

Axel shook his head, placing the card down to one side and folding his hands together. On the other side of the glass, Roxas became frustrated; he knew that he couldn’t go and operate the elevator without his ID, even if he felt like doing the sniffy stomp-away thing. If Axel didn’t either press the orange button or give back the identification, Roxas was stuck here like it was purgatory – except for, of course, turning and leaving the building. Which Axel really hoped didn’t occur to him.

Luckily, however, it seemed more important to the blond to challenge Axel directly. He disappeared briefly to rattle the locked door to the office, reappearing angrily a moment later. “What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just keep me standing here, I’m an em-fucking-ployee, and you’re just the new guy. So quit with the power game and swipe my _card.”_

“It’s not a power game.” It did feel good like one, however. Axel narrowed his eyes, hunching his shoulders and moving closer to the glass, Roxas looking uncertain, distasteful, like he wanted to pull away a little. “I’d like to ask you something.”

There was a pause, before the boy shortly demanded, “What?”

Axel tilted his head to one side, a beseeching expression in place as he said, “I feel like we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I don’t know _why,_ exactly, but I get that impression.”

“He’s a fucking wunderkind,” Roxas muttered to himself.

Axel straightened, jabbing a finger at the window, exclaiming, “There, see? What was that? Rudeness for the sake of it?”

Roxas looked at him like he was an idiot. “Why do you _care?_ ‘Rudeness for the sake of it’? If I want to treat you like shit, I’ll treat you like shit. I don’t need a reason. Nobody needs a reason.” He looked Axel up and down with open dislike. “You don’t need a reason, I’m sure.”

“I’m not treating you like shit,” Axel pointed out. There was movement out of the corner of his eye, distracting him for a split-second – Ansem was walking through the security monitors, heading into the elevator from the parking lot.

“You don’t need to, for me to think you’re a jerk-off.” Roxas fixed him with a withering scowl. “Although it kind of feels like you are, anyway. Like now, for example. And last night, you did the same thing, just like this – it’s all power games.”

“This isn’t me playing power games,” Axel argued – no, wait, not argued, _disagreed,_ he was still very much in control of this conversation. Yes. “If I was playing power games, you’d know all about it, kid, you wouldn’t even know what hit you.”

Wait, was that what he’d wanted to emphasise?

“So I wouldn’t know what hit me…” Roxas slowly repeated, “…but I’d know all about it?”

Axel heard the elevator distantly rumble away from where Roxas had left it, rising to meet Ansem.

“I would ask you if you’ve taken all your medication tonight,” the blond continued, “but I wouldn’t want to insult those in the world who _do_ have genuine mental illness – as opposed to your absolute, undiluted _stupidity.”_

Axel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and waving the other through the air, as though to try and dissipate the bad feeling between them. “No, wait, look – see, things are degenerating. I wanted for them to _not_ degenerate, I was planning on this being a very adult encounter, during which we talked and reached an accord of some kind.”

Roxas smirked, lifting his chin disdainfully. “I don’t reach ‘accords’ during ‘adult encounters’ with just anyone, you know. Your euphemisms could do with a little tweaking, there, asshole.”

Ansem was in the elevator, it was on its way down. “I’m really not an asshole,” Axel replied, some desperation tugging at his words. “I’m a nice guy, and I’m – I _wasn’t_ using euphemisms – I’d just like to be working somewhere where I’m getting along with everyone, and I feel like that really isn’t _happening_ between you and me…”

“You want to get along with everyone? _Please.”_ Roxas’ scorn knew no bounds. The elevator dinged at their basement level, gleaming doors parting to regurgitate Ansem into the hallway. The boy glanced down towards him, sensing victory close at hand. He leaned towards the window and lowered his voice for the finishing blow. “Try a total personality lobotomy. Maybe then I’d find the time to talk to you without treating you like an idiot. _Idiot.”_ Then, relaxing and raising his voice back to normal, he greeted Ansem with, “Hello, sir. I’m just on my way in, the new security was –” he turned to Axel with an icy smile, “- just swiping my identification now.”

Oh, sweet Christ. Axel didn’t know whether to rip the little office to pieces or burst into gales of laughter.

“Ah. Yes. Very good.” Ansem joined them, Axel’s fingers twitching, itching to do something rash, a little bubble of wildness welling up inside him – but no, the job, he had to stick to the job plan, and it even came complete with killing the very person causing him all his problems. He bit the inside of his lip, suppressing a grin as he grabbed Roxas’ smiling ID card and dragged it quickly through the machine.

“There,” he declared, sounding only slightly strangled. “You’re free to go.” He returned the blond’s identification, Roxas calmly taking it, waiting for Ansem to be registered in the system as well before the two of them continued down the corridor together. Axel pressed the orange button, heard the freight elevator buzz, and noticed that yet more employees were appearing on the monitors, who would need his attention.

That night, despite all his preparation, Axel found himself incapable of focusing on any of the reading material he had brought with him. He could hardly even taste his food. He found himself instead running the whole encounter through his mind over and over, remembering every spoken word, every glance, and Roxas’ incomparable sneer. This wasn’t like dealing with Seifer. This was different, there was more to it than just a confrontation with an idiot – which, he realised gradually, was precisely how Roxas had viewed it, with _Axel_ in the role of _Seifer_. Incredible. It was enough to make his head spin. And hadn’t it spun! He had ended up completely on the back foot, in a _minute;_ Roxas had taken him from his lofty perch of all-seeing, all-knowing and thrust him into a – a vertiginous vortex of sheer _reaction._

By the end of the night, Axel was feeling nearly breathless. And when Roxas went by him on the way out, the blond behaved as though he wasn’t even there, Axel was _invisible_ to him. How utterly – utterly _short-sighted_ human beings were, particularly those from the bloody past. It was astounding that that petty _child_ had absolutely no clairvoyance whatsoever that he was screwing with the very monster that would ultimately snuff the last breath from his body, every ounce of irrational defiance crushed into dust. Because, see, _that_ would have made sense, Axel could have forgiven that – but this? What _was_ this? It was the not knowing that he couldn’t stand, and dealing with Roxas head-on had just made things _worse._

At the very end of the night, Ansem managed to finish the whole debacle off by pausing at Axel’s station, sending a long, piercing look through the window at Axel, who sat patiently and waited for whatever pearl of wisdom the man felt like imparting. Rather than wisdom, however, Ansem chided, “I noticed that you and Roxas were conversing earlier this evening when I arrived. I’d prefer it if you didn’t delay any member of my team during their arrival, or indeed their exit. We must be a well-oiled machine, Mister Drake, if we are to complete our research before others are able to in our stead. Please keep this in mind, and be sure to be as efficient a cog in this company as is possible. That will be all for now. Enjoy the remainder of your night.”

He was the last to leave the building, and as he watched the man cross the parking lot to his dormant car, Axel let loose the laughter that had threatened to spin out of him earlier. This job was going to be his undoing; one way or another, all the way down to his bones, he just knew it.

o.O.o

Axel had started working at the Research Committee on a Tuesday; by Saturday night, little had changed in the way of relations with Roxas.

Axel had driven by his bungalow a couple of times, before and after his shift, but short of being able to step up to the door and kick the kid’s face in ahead of schedule, there was nothing to be done. At work, there was simply no opportunity to make changes occur, and it frustrated the hell out of him. He tried, Lord knew he tried every single night to get the blond’s attention and drum up something a bit more positive between them, but Roxas wasn’t budging. He was _refusing_ to get along, or even be civil, and after nearly an entire week of it, Axel was beginning to consider how else he might be able to access the kid’s personal space to monitor his progress on the Cornerstone Theory. It was going to probably necessitate listening devices and database hacking, neither of which were the most secure of methods at this point in the game, but if that’s what was required, then that was what he’d do. Of course, he would keep the friendship avenue open and continue to chip away at it – but he wasn’t exactly going to _rely_ on it. Roxas had graduated from dirty looks to permanently pretending that Axel wasn’t there. This really wasn’t working.

Recently, he had taken to photographing Black’s house during what passed for sleeping hours with the nocturnal crew of the Cornerstone Theory’s leading scientific minds. Not knowing Roxas’ exact daytime habits – for example if he was a light or irregular sleeper, apt to roam the bungalow and peer through the curtains like some restless, albeit suspicious, characters Axel had been acquainted with during his life as a hunter – the redhead made a point of being cautious. Sometimes he would drive by, taking pictures with one hand as he passed; other times he would go on foot, in myriad disguises that hid his distinctive hair and generally morphed his image. He had been doing this for two days now, and after a week would put them all together on his computer and see what he could correlate in terms of vaguely useful visual information.

After tonight’s shift, he had twenty-four hours to himself, which he planned to use wisely – strictly in terms of self-preservation. He was going to drink himself shit-faced in the confines of his cosy basement, and he was going to buy a fucking punching bag. He needed the release, badly. After that, he could go back to being super-spy or whatever the fuck. Taking pictures was about all he was good for at the moment, with the target refusing him even the time of day. Axel had tried, too; he’d asked Roxas the time of goddamn day, and the kid had told him it was time to get a watch. The nerve of some people.

As Saturday’s shift drew to a close, nothing extraordinary having happened whatsoever in the guard station – he was beginning to see why previous guys had sold inside information to competitors, it must have lent a little thrill to their otherwise drab and meaningless lives – Axel started wondering if he could taste the tequila already. He found that he was craving the end of the working night, felt a flutter of relief as the first of the scientists started trickling by, not to return until the Monday evening: obviously what passed for a ‘weekend’ for these people. One by one, the research team took their leave, some of them acknowledging him as they passed, others a little too self-important or exhausted for it. Roxas was, for the first time, the last to leave. Axel wondered with annoyance if the blond was doing it on purpose, trying to drag it out to punish him for God only knew what, to prevent him from getting out of this damnable guard station. He wouldn’t put it past him; Axel could picture him now, smirking to himself down in the lab where he knew Axel couldn’t even see him, sitting smugly drinking a coffee or taking a nap or something similarly petty and cruel. He now knew why the contract had been put out on the kid: he was infuriating.

However, it was during this silent fuming session that Roxas finally came up, looking weary, dark under the eyes like he’d been nose to the grindstone from dusk til dawn. He darted Axel a short look and kept on walking, evidently not bothering even with the withering barbs he was so adept at tossing the redhead’s way. Axel watched him go, letting loose a long sigh, feeling that he had reached an indefinite impasse. He wondered, for an insanity-stricken moment, if he would have had more luck acting like Reno – that overwhelming sleaze worked on a surprising number of people. It might even have been worth a shot, if not for what happened next.

As Axel’s green eyes slid from the screen monitoring the elevator, in which Roxas stood stoop-shouldered, to the one for the parking lot, a flicker of motion caught his attention. Gaze sharpening, he zeroed in on the movement, a frown slowly creasing his features. For a long moment, there was nothing… the parking lot appeared deserted… but there, again, a disruption flashed through the stillness, an unmistakeable shape: there was somebody already in the parking lot. There was somebody there… and they were trying hard to not be seen.

It was one person, a large man, crouched behind a car – Roxas’ car, the only one left in the lot aside from Axel’s rental. He had no idea how long he’d been there. There had been more cars earlier in the night, and more people – Axel hadn’t noticed anything with the extra interference. His body tightened, jaw clenching; what did this mean? Why was there someone up there? And what did it mean for Roxas, who was about to enter the damned garage? He would surely come across the intruder, since he would be making straight for him. He couldn’t avoid a confrontation even if he tried – but wait. Axel grabbed the desk, standing up sharply, the chair rolling away behind him as he saw a second shape moving through the parking garage, swiftly appearing from the shadowy area by the elevator doors, waiting to one side for them to open. Two intruders now – and they could hear the elevator coming. Whatever the hell this was, Roxas was about to get jumped – Axel had to get up there, _now._

His mind started turning cold, even as his body heated up with the excitement of a new hunt. He started analysing the situation, unlocking the door with cool speed and throwing himself out into the hallway, bolting down towards the elevator. He couldn’t imagine a scenario in which two intruders were able to enter without him noticing; the screens were all he had to look at, any change in them and he would have surely spotted it. They should not have been able to do it. But they were up there, there was no denying that much, and however they’d done it, they were just short of taking an employee’s identification and making their way downstairs. Fucking scientific espionage, just like Dr. Crescent had warned him. How could it happen this quickly, this easily? Maybe the point of it was that he was supposed to stay put, call in the big guns, let the common employee take the beating coming his way and wait for it all to resolve itself. But it wasn’t that simple for him; Roxas was _his_ target, and God help anyone who tried to take that away from him.

He reached the elevator, hammered the button in a staccato rhythm. It lit up, the sound of gears and cables rumbling out of sight telling him that the car had already released Roxas into the parking lot and was returning. _Shit._ He was so accustomed to being able to see everything from the monitors in the guard room, he felt blind not knowing what was going on, vibrating with agitation. Hissing through his teeth, Axel slammed the button several more times, wondering why the _hell_ the elevators moved like lumbering fucking _sloths_ in a building as shiny as this one.

At long last, the doors split apart, Axel one step back and ready in case one of the interloping duo had climbed in and left Roxas for his partner – but it was empty. That didn’t bode well for Roxas. He was inside in a flash, the doors closing behind him, the elevator car rising back towards the garage. In the few moments he had before reaching Roxas, Axel readied himself, taking a deep breath, balling his fists, calming himself, everything inside him turning murky and dark as his blood pumped faster with lust for the fight.

The elevator came to a halt, its cheery ding a jarring juxtaposition to the circumstances. As soon as the doors were open enough, Axel was out, spotting Roxas halfway across the lot, held by one hulking man from behind, being attacked by the other from the front. He sprinted for them, the growl that rumbled in his throat tearing into a yell as he reached them, throwing his fist into the side of the attacker’s face. The man, long and skinny, had spotted Axel only at the last second; he didn’t pull away in time, and ended up with blood on his face, smashed out of his nose by the edges of Axel’s knuckles. There was a stunned moment as the three males stared at him. Roxas hung between them, bruised and dishevelled, eyebrows up around his hairline at the sight of Axel standing there radiating viciousness.

Axel, on the other hand, didn’t pause to make introductions – while they were on the back foot, he pressed the advantage, ducking and whipping a leg around to slam into the backs of the hulking one’s knees. The man buckled, Axel punching him, then returning his attention to the thin one in time to get hit in the face himself. He staggered back, lowered his head, and lunged, wrapping his arms around the attacker’s thin waist and dragging him away from Roxas. The man had long, silver hair that flew into Axel’s eyes, the redhead reaching up and grabbing a handful of it as a knee jabbed into his stomach. Grunting, he wrenched back on the hair, a slight cry popping from the man’s lips, a pale throat exposed, Axel burying an elbow into it.

He dropped the thin intruder to choke on the ground, twisting to target the big one – only to find Roxas neatly holding his own, using their difference in size to his distinct advantage. He moved faster than the big guy, jabbing punches in quick and sharp, shoes dragging audibly over the concrete as he darted one way, then another. He held himself like an experienced fighter, like he’d taken more than his fair share of self-defence classes, which he then proved by grabbing the guy by one arm and literally tossing him over his shoulder. Axel was impressed in spite of himself.

“Not bad,” he commented, voice echoing in the enclosed space. Roxas threw him an angry, incredulous look, like _‘Not bad’_ was a pretty stupid thing to be saying under the circumstances. Axel supposed he could see it from the blond’s point of view, and adjusted his attitude accordingly, turning and kicking the long-haired guy hard in the face. He heard an expletive being spluttered through yet more blood and coughing, then got shoved hard into a concrete column, knocking his head hard enough to briefly see stars. It took him a few breathless seconds to straighten up and refocus, by which time the skinny guy was no longer where Axel had left him. It took a little longer for him to look around and realise that the big one had swooped in and snatched his partner up, the two of them now limping post-haste towards the exit. Axel hesitated, knowing he could probably make some sort of pursuit… but Roxas was the focus here, not them. Glancing over his shoulder to where the blond stood with his hands on his knees, catching his breath, Axel knew he was making the right decision.

Pushing away from the column, he shuffled over towards Roxas, bending and slipping a hand under the sweat-dampened blond fringe that hung over his face, lifting it to find blue eyes gazing back. “You okay in there?”

Roxas bumped his arm away sharply – not irritably, like he might have done, but more like he just didn’t need the Florence Nightingale routine. “I’m fine,” he muttered, straightening up, running his fingers through his hair and wincing a little. Touching his middle gingerly, he added, “I will be, anyway.” Axel blew out a breath, touching his own bruises carefully, feeling for whatever damage would last the weekend. Roxas glanced over, then looked away, asking, “Is your head okay? You’ve got a lump. It looks sore.”

Axel touched it, flinching a little at the pain. “Well, it isn’t bleeding – that’s good, at least. I’ve weathered harder hits than that one.” He turned, gazing over towards the garage’s exit. The intruders were gone, up at street level now, melting back into the night. “Do you know who those guys were?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” His tone surprised Axel, who looked back towards him, Roxas already setting off towards his car again.

“Hey!” Axel hurried to catch up, wondering at the mood. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe head to the ER, just to make certain…”

“I’m not hurt,” Roxas replied shortly, not slowing in his pace, eyes fixed straight ahead. “I know what it feels like, I’ve been hurt before. This is just some bumps and grazes.”

“Well – okay.” Uncertainly, he dogged Roxas’ steps, unwilling to let it go at this. “Um, should we be filing some kind of report about it, then?”

Impatiently, Roxas snapped, “Look, you know what? That’s not my concern – you’re the security guy, right? _You_ take care of it. Nice going, by the way, you did a bang up job of keeping the place _secure.”_

Stung by his tone, pissed off now, Axel retorted, _“Hey,_ I got up here as fast as I damn well could, you goddamn brat! How about a _thank you,_ while we’re on the subject? It wouldn’t kill you to just be a _little_ bit nice to me after I’ve helped save your _ass_ and all.” He stomped to a halt as Roxas reached his car and began to unlock it with his back to the redhead. “You know what? I don’t even know what your problem is,” Axel continued, angrily. “I’ve tried so damn hard just to get you to be _civil_ to me, and you won’t even bother with that. I haven’t done anything bad to you, I haven’t been rude to you, I haven’t done _anything_ but be completely fucking nice to you!”

Roxas paused, tilted his head slightly towards Axel, opening the driver’s door with a soft click. “Yes,” he agreed quietly. He turned to face Axel fully, blue eyes tired but full of emphatic meaning as he said pointedly, _“…To me.”_

Leaving Axel to puzzle that one out alone, Roxas climbed into his car, started the engine, got into gear. Winding down his window, he said, “Thanks for the help,” and drove away, stopping only to swipe his ID to make the security boom lift. Axel heard the car pick up speed quickly, and wondered if Roxas was afraid that the intruders were still out there, waiting for him.

All too soon, there was silence in the parking garage. It was dim, and lonely, Axel’s car the only one left in the entire lot. He stood there for a while, slowly scanning the edges of the lot. Everything seemed to have concluded too rapidly, and without lasting consequence; Roxas hadn’t seemed all that perturbed about getting attacked. Surprised, even – there hadn’t been a single question on his lips. Putting himself in Roxas’ shoes – hell, staying in his _own_ shoes – he was sure he’d have a couple dozen things to ask right off the bat, if only to find out “Who were those jerks?” and “What the hell is going on?”

Strange. But then, Axel was kind of getting used to that.

He needed to return to his office, lock up for the night, and on Monday he would make his report to Ansem. Dr. Crescent hadn’t exactly briefed him on what to do when the employees started getting beaten up near their cars. He supposed that as long as they hadn’t got inside, and Roxas hadn’t been too badly hurt…

God, that kid was an enigma. At the end of the day, even after getting half-mugged in the parking lot, he’d still had the presence of mind to treat Axel like a dick. And for what?

“‘...To me’?” Axel muttered it under his breath a few times, then sighed. There would be time enough to figure it out once he was out of this place. It was looking like the Sunday boozing was out of the question, though, now that he’d need all his brain cells in working order.

But who knew – Roxas had spoken to him semi-rationally, right? Even given him a clue of sorts to figuring out the workings of his bewildering little mind. At the very least, they had some conversation material to flesh out the next time they saw each other.

Perhaps something good could come of all this yet.

 


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t drink beyond his Saturday indulgence, but towards the end of Sunday night, Axel found he had a headache that aspirin couldn’t shift. Things just… weren’t making sense. Not the right kind of sense, anyway.

He had spent much of his spare day between shifts slowly compiling a list of all of the discrepancies in the job so far. There was so much to consider – not the least of which was that he still couldn’t decide why it was that the contract was even out on the kid. That alone created a blockade in his mind that refused to budge, the throb at his temples a maddening distraction. He shouldn’t have cared – a contract was a contract was a contract. Where it came from, or why, was not his concern; he was simply tasked with getting it done, and receiving a pretty bank statement at the end of it. But there again, Roxas persisted in being different, because where in previous jobs Axel had been able to figure it out all on his own – with a hell of a lot less time in which to do so – with Roxas, it remained a mystery.

Okay, fine – he supposed he could deal with that, he was hardly a force of omniscience. But matters weren’t helped by the fact that before he had even left his own _time_ Axel hadn’t known enough about the target. How could someone as unassuming as Roxas cover his tracks so expertly? And moreover – why did he know to do so at all? Had someone tipped him off? But how could they, when none of it had ever even happened yet? A person could cover their tracks to avoid the Organisation, but if said person doesn’t know it exists until the moment the killing blow comes, how do they _know_ to cover their tracks? A), they’re dead, and B), they figure it out posthumously, by which point it’s just a little late.

There were more forces at work here than Axel could begin to guess at.

It was all tied in with the Cornerstone Theory. Once he figured out Roxas’ role in its discovery, he would know more, he was sure. There were people out there willing to do drastic things to take the credit for themselves – he knew, simply from his _being_ here, that last night’s attack was only the tip of the iceberg. But again, Roxas had been the focus, hadn’t he? At the time, it had seemed like an assault on the Research Committee itself, but could it possibly be coincidence that the one person in the whole project who was going to die within a three-month period at Axel’s own hand was the very same who got beaten up in the parking lot? Axel liked to think he had a little more intelligence than that – but then, that was becoming more dubious the longer he tried to puzzle it out.

Liquor.

He ended up lying on his bed, surrounded by hand-scrawled papers he would burn before morning, staring at the ceiling and drinking shots from the bottle. He wasn’t drunk, at least not yet. Halfway, maybe. And behind it all, echoing in his head was, _“To me”._ Emphasis on ‘me’, which suggested that he thought that Axel was less than genuine the rest of the time, but he couldn’t really think where that opinion would have come from. Who had planted the idea in Roxas’ head that Axel was anything different than he appeared at face value? He had been perfectly pleasant to everyone else in the laboratory; unless a lot of bitching had happened behind his back after he’d first met them all, he couldn’t see how anyone down there could have so radically shaped Roxas’ attitude.

One thing, though – he frowned at the patch of damp on the ceiling as Seifer’s gang floated through his mind. They were bastards – well, the two who spoke were, anyway – so they’d deserved everything they’d got from him, and even that hadn’t been more than a little tap on the wrist to teach them who was alpha. Were they friends with Roxas? Could anyone aside from his lackeys actually stand Seifer Almasy? If that was what was sticking in Roxas’ craw, then the kid needed a crash course in how to choose friendships.

…So thought the assassin, intent on befriending the boy to carry out his dastardly duty. Okay, maybe the crash course was due from someone _other_ than Axel. He could appreciate that some ironies were simply too rich to be part of. 

It was still difficult to imagine Roxas, with his sharp tongue and obvious smarts, actually getting along with Seifer, though. Axel got the feeling that anyone who wasn’t bull-headed like the rest of them would be sneered at by the gang, tormented, or otherwise called ‘chicken-wuss’ at every given opportunity. Like that Pence kid. Not that Axel had proven himself a shining paragon of kindness there, either, what with always calling him ‘Peter’ and generally giving him a hard time – but the kid had asked for it, he’d been just too damn eager to be awesome best friends forever. A kid like that would be easy meat to Seifer and his crew.

The more that Axel thought about it, the more he became convinced that it wasn’t his run-ins with Seifer that had tipped the balance out of his favour. Roxas and Seifer’s profiles were too different to mesh socially, he couldn’t imagine Roxas putting up with the special brand of bullshit that Seifer spouted. So, with that ruled out, the only option left was…

Really? The temp kid? Was the royal cold shoulder Axel had been receiving a direct connection to him trying to fob off Pence’s attempts at friendship? Since there was no one else that Axel had pissed off, this was the logical conclusion to draw, but if that was the case, then he was annoyed. The crime did _not_ fit the punishment, in his opinion – so he didn’t skip off into the sunset holding Pence’s hand, _so what?_ That was no reason to act like Axel was the biggest dick in history. It wasn’t like he was a _total_ asshole, like Seifer was. He didn’t call him names – well, he deliberately misspoke the kid’s _regular_ name, but that was hardly hurtful stuff – he didn’t really do _anything_ to Pence except for be a bit of a wise-ass and maybe make him feel an inch or so tall. But big deal – right? Well, apparently, yeah.

Great. Just perfect.

So now he was going to have to make nice somehow with Pence, attempt to bridge the gap he had deliberately created _to protect the damn temp kid_ from getting involved. He supposed he could still keep Pence at a distance, especially since they didn’t interact a whole heap; but goddamn, there was a limit to how much Axel usually bent over backwards to accommodate a job, and this was one very close to reconfiguring that entirely.

He sighed, took another shot, mumbling a curse and coughing as it dribbled down the side of his face and stained the pillow. Holding up the bottle, he saw that he’d gone through a good third of the stuff – probably best to stop there, he didn’t want to have to deal with a raging hang-over on top of everything else.

Heaving himself from the bed, Axel rolled the bottle under the skeevy mattress and collected up the various bits of paper for destruction. For now, he would have to wait and see how things progressed. It was all just – a little too out of his control at the moment, too many things happening that he had no influence over. So, he would bide his time. He would pay attention. He would keep his game face on, and his wits about him… alcohol notwithstanding… and see what, if anything, he could discern from the mess currently revolving around this contract.

In the meantime, he’d try his damndest to make some kid like him better, so that some other kid liked him better, so he could eventually blow at least one of them right out of the timeline in a splatter of blood.

God. Who knew one blue-eyed blond could cause this much trouble?

.o.O.o.

“Ugh.”

Axel squinted through the windscreen of his rental car, the rich light from the setting sun hitting his face at just the right angle to pierce his eyes. He was… a little hung-over. Slight miscalculation there. Maybe Saturday’s tequila had set him off-balance, leaving him vulnerable to Sunday’s whiskey…? Or maybe he needed to lay off the booze for a while. Just until he had his head straight.

That aspiration was feeling more and more distant, though; the downside, among other things, to having this night security duty was how much time it gave him to think. Thinking without being able to resolve anything was rapidly becoming a pain in the ass, and until he figured out a way to slither into Roxas’ affections – or at least out of his bad books – he knew that he was stuck like this.

Today’s mission, he had decided upon rolling out of bed with a dry mouth and a tongue tasting sour with hours-old whiskey, was definitely to make progress with Roxas. Some progress. _Any_ progress. And luckily, this time, thanks to the anonymous silver-haired attackers from Saturday night, he had the perfect springboard from which to start a genuine, serious discussion.

Before then, however, he had some foundations to reset.

With a good half-hour to spare before he had to start getting ready for his shift, Axel parked in the underground lot, caught the elevator up to the fifth floor, and started looking for the temp kid. It was time to woo that son-of-a-bitch with some patented Axel charm. It didn’t really sit right with him, but if he was going to get anywhere near the vicinity of exchanging pleasantries with Roxas, it was likely to happen only with the approval of the kid he’d pissed off. He recalled that Pence was the recipient of a lot of the odd-jobs in the building – perhaps his best place to start was to find the daytime security crew and see if they could track him down on their video feed.

He changed into his uniform in the locker room and went in search, following the signs on the walls to the main security office. Luckily, there was no sign of the dreaded Seifer trio, Axel instead dealing with a business-like woman who, upon glancing at his uniform and I.D., agreed to pick Pence out on their wall of monitors. From there, he was directed to the break room on level four, where the kid was apparently emptying the employee refrigerator.

Trying to look casual about finding someone in a place you’re unlikely to be isn’t always easy, but Axel felt like he’d managed to pull it off. “Oh! Hey, this is the break room? I must have hopped off the elevator one floor early…”

The temp kid, on his knees with his head and shoulders in the refrigerator, jerked at the sound of his voice. He drew back, expression open until he recognised Axel, at which point it closed right up. “Oh,” he said, sounding more disgruntled than the redhead remembered, “it’s you.”

What, was he taking lessons from Roxas now? “Oh, _hi,_ Pet-” Damn it. Reflex. “I mean,” Axel coughed dryly into his fist, “Pence. Did you – have a good weekend?”

Pence eyed him suspiciously. “…Yeah…” Silence followed. This was going swimmingly.

“Well, that’s great. Me, too, actually,” Axel offered, a bright smile fixed firmly in place. “Weekends are what it’s all about, am I right?” He broke into a peal congenial laughter, with which the temp kid did not join in.

“…Uh-huh.” Unimpressed, Pence turned back to the fridge and continued with his task.

_Jesus hell damn crap mother-f-_

Clearing his throat, loudly so the kid knew he wasn’t going to just slink off, Axel figured it was time to shift gears. “Look, Pence, I just wanted to – apologise for the way I’ve been acting towards you. I was being kind of an ass, and you didn’t deserve it. So, I’m sorry. I’ve changed my ways.” As Pence sat back on his heels and levelled a sceptical look his way, Axel placed a hand on his heart and held the other one up by his head, the very picture of earnestness.

“Roxas said something, didn’t he?”

Axel blinked, his smile faltering but staying firm. “I’m sorry?”

The kid’s mouth twisted, ‘unimpressed’ morphing into what was nearly ‘disappointed’, like he was disappointed _with Axel._ The experience was bizarre.

“You know, despite what guys like you and Seifer think,” oh, hell, they _did_ put him on par with that douchebag, “I’m not an idiot.” Pence, more astute than Axel had given him credit for, swung his eyes to the ceiling and rattled off, “You want Roxas to stop hating you, and Roxas hates you because I told him what an asshole the new security guard is, so you’ve come to _me_ to try and make amends, so I’ll go tell Roxas what a swell guy you really are, and you and he can start over.” He lifted an eyebrow at Axel’s somewhat frozen expression. “Am I in the ballpark, Ace?”

Momentarily distracted, Axel echoed, “ ‘Ace?’”

“Oh, yeah. It’s our nickname for you. Roxas came up with it. It’s because you think you’re pretty awesome, you’ve got, like, this swagger about you,” Pence explained. “It’s short for ‘Ace Hole’. Kind of a play on words – sounds like your name a bit, and also kind of sounds like –”

“Yeah.” Axel tightly cut him off, squeezing the bridge of his nose, the farce just – dropped. “Yeah, I know what it sounds like.” He slowly exhaled, rethinking his approach. “So I screwed the pooch on this one, huh?”

“Superly,” Pence confirmed, a short nod emphasising the opinion.

“And I can’t change your mind? It’s not like I was like that Seifer guy,” Axel pointed out. “I never _harassed_ you.”

Pence spent a moment sizing him up. “Do you – _like_ Roxas, maybe?” he eventually queried. Axel blinked, rubbed a finger against his temple.

“Oh. Well. I don’t know. Maybe,” he ventured, wondering if this new approach would garner any support from the kid.

“Huh.” Pence hummed to himself thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s like we thought. You’re pretty anxious to get into his pants, huh?”

Axel exploded, _“What?”_ then, as the kid recoiled, toned it down a notch. With a nervous laugh, he amended, “I mean, wha-what? Sorry?”

“We’re pretty sure you want to bang him.”

Axel closed his eyes, swept his palms hard over his face. What the _hell?_ They’d been having a _great_ old chat about him, hadn’t they? Like a couple of frickin’ _women,_ for Christ’s sake. “…That – wasn’t my intention,” he attempted to correct, sounding strained. “I would just…” He drew a fortifying breath, lowered his hands, collected himself and went on, “I would like to be _friends_ with him. That’s all. We’re colleagues, after all, and –”

Pence snorted. “You’re not colleagues, man. You’re the night watchman, and he’s an assistant researcher. Try again?”

The dark part of Axel twitched, deep inside. He briefly wondered how clever the kid would feel if the room was _on fire around him…_ He cleared his throat a little, to ground himelf. “Well. It seems like we’ve reached… an impasse.”

“Seems like,” Pence blithely agreed.

Lips pressing thin, Axel thought, then asked, “Is this set in stone, or what?”

The kid shrugged. “I don’t know. Like you said, you’re not as bad as Seifer. But on the other hand, you _kind of_ demonstrated that you’re a dick.”

“Uh-huh.” Axel squinted at him. “And how do I – _un_ -demonstrate that? What can I do to redeem myself?”

“Can you?” Pence bluntly replied. “I mean, if you’re a dick, then you’re a _dick,_ you know? I don’t know that you can just ‘redeem’ that and change a person’s opinion of you.”

A philosophical discussion on whether or not acting dick-ish made you a dick for life had not been on Axel’s to-do list when he woke up today. Expelling a drawn out breath, he pondered, then after a pause suggested, “I’m not really a _dick,_ as such. I’m more just – scathingly witty with people who try too hard.”

The temp kid gave him a thumbs-down. “Bzzt. Wrong answer, Ace. But thanks, I’ll take that under advisement – you know, that I _try too hard.”_

Axel shook his head, went to try again, saying, “No, no, _wait,_ come on, what I _meant_ was –”

“Hey, I actually have a lot to do,” Pence interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him, “and I’m going to save you a lot of trouble by telling you that this is going nowhere.” He gave Axel a look that was almost pitying. “If you really like Roxas, hang in there. Maybe you’ll change his mind, and maybe he can change _my_ mind. But right now? What you’re doing here? Makes you seem like even _more_ of a dick. Just sayin’.”

Axel hesitated, glanced at the clock on the wall and realised that he was due to begin his shift soon anyway, and with a heavy sigh conceded defeat. “…Okay. I get it.” Holding up his hands, he said, “I’ll respectfully withdraw. You win this round, Peter.”

Pence blew out a sharp breath that Axel could’ve _sworn_ was almost a laugh. “Yeah. Thanks, Ace. I’m touched.”

Having lost the verbal spar – even Roxas’ friends were above and beyond expectation – Axel removed himself, leaving the kid to finish his chores. He wasn’t sure how he felt after all that; on the one hand, it had been a flagrant failure. The temp kid had connected the dots way too fast. On the other hand – he didn’t detect _loathing_ from Pence, and therefore could maybe assume that Roxas didn’t loathe him, either. He was just being… protective of his pal. And okay, they evidently felt that ‘dick’ was the applicable term with Axel, which wasn’t great news, but they had _also_ had discussions about how they thought that he wanted to get into Roxas’ pants – and the temp kid had almost given him a sort of encouragement, on that front. He’d asked if Axel _liked_ Roxas, as if his attempt to appease him was part of that, instead of the more minor task of just befriending the blond.

So, if Axel approached Roxas like a love-struck kid – what effect would that have, he wondered? If he changed this from trying to get along with Roxas to trying to win him over, wine and dine him and all that jazz, would he be more open to a relationship in whatever capacity? Hell, even a pity relationship borne out of being friend-zoned would be acceptable – anything that got him in a position where he could more closely monitor Roxas’ role in the Cornerstone Theory research. Asking about it at the office was only going to seem suspicious as hell, what with Ansem being permanently on edge – the only way he was going to have any real insight into what was going on was through Roxas, and that was only going to happen in a more casual setting. Axel had the scripts all laid out in his head, he just needed the right environment in which to enact them.

As he caught the elevator downstairs to the second basement, lost in thought, once again finding himself reshaping his approach to the job, he almost didn’t notice that there was someone waiting for him. He slowed partway along the cold, tunnel-like passageway to the lab’s security office, more than a little surprised to see the object of his endless contemplations standing right in front of him.

“Roxas?”

The blond lifted his chin a little in acknowledgment, giving a brief, “Hey.”

Approaching cautiously, Axel replied, “…Hey.”

Looking like he’d really rather be somewhere else, the kid asked, “Can I talk to you?”

Axel pulled out his keys and jangled them a little, Roxas stepping aside to let him open the office up. “Come on in.”

Roxas hesitated, but followed him into the office’s cramped interior. As Axel went about unlocking the shutter over the window, the blond glanced around. “This is my first time on this side of the glass. It’s pretty stark,” he idly observed.

“You’re telling me,” Axel muttered. “First night here, I thought I was going to lose my mind from boredom. All these T.V. screens, not one of them gets cable. How’s that for fair?”

Despite himself, Roxas reluctantly chuckled. He stepped a little closer, looking at the workstation, before his eyes were drawn to the shelf below. Eyebrows rising, he reached in and pulled out one of the old girlie magazines. “Oh, yeah, it looks like you’re _really_ strapped for entertainment.”

Axel rolled his eyes. “Those… aren’t mine.” He snatched it back and stuffed it under the desk. “You had to find that, but skipped right over all the books I bought.” He turned to the blond, arms folded, deciding to take control of the conversation. “So, what can I do for you? Last time I checked, you couldn’t stand me. I can’t imagine you’re here for the official tour of my amazing office.”

Roxas conceded this point with a nod. “That’s right; I’m not.”

“So, this is to do with Saturday night, right?”

The blond shifted uncomfortably. “As a matter of fact, yes. I came to ask you to not submit a report about it.”

Axel gave a dubious blink. _“Don’t_ submit a report? You mean, the report that would detail the fact that _you_ were attacked by two nameless men – that report?”

“Yes, that report,” Roxas impatiently bit off. Axel pursed his lips.

“And why the hell would I do that? Roxas, they were _hurting_ you. We both still have some bruises left from the fight, I can see yours pretty clearly.” He hesitated, then tried easing into the persona that Roxas and Pence evidently expected from him: quietly, he added, “Your skin seems kind of soft and fair – so maybe it bruises for longer.”

Roxas darted him an annoyed look. “My skin is _not –”_ He broke off, shook his head as if to clear it and get back on track. “Look, it really wasn’t a big deal. I would prefer that it didn’t _become_ one.”

Becoming a little more businesslike, Axel pointed out, “And what about the fact that this is my _job_ we’re talking about? I’m – I’ve been concerned about your well-being, first and foremost, but beyond that, the fact remains that what happened on Saturday was a major breach of staff safety, and overall lab security. If those guys had got hold of your I.D. card, we would have serious issues right now. I need to write this up so that Ansem’s made aware of both the fact that you guys are being targeted, and the _massive_ flaw that is a single I.D. universal access system.”

Roxas glanced away, mouth thinning. “…What if I told you it had nothing to do with this place? That it’s just to do with me?”

Huh. So he hadn’t been so far off-base with that theory, after all. Curiosity piqued, Axel answered slowly, “Well, that would depend on whether or not that’s true, I guess.” He peered at Roxas, the blond avoiding his gaze. “Roxas?”

The kid gave a short huff before admitting, “It’s true; those guys weren’t here because they want access to the lab – they were here to get _me._ It’s happened before, in other places.” He debated for a moment, then said, “I was hospitalised the first time.” His blue eyes came around to meet Axel’s, defiance in their depths. “That’s when I started learning how to fight.”

Startled by this revelation – he didn’t even know why he’d been _given_ notes on Roxas, it was like he was living a whole other life apart from the bland creature they’d set him up to expect – Axel incredulously asked, “Who the hell would want to attack you? How long has this been happening?”

Roxas gave a dissatisfied shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine for the ‘who’. The why is still kinda hazy, too. Since when is easier – the first attack was maybe six months ago now.”

“And?” Axel demanded.

“And what?”

The redhead let out an exasperated noise. “Did you ever think to, I don’t know, _tell_ anyone? The police, maybe? Is anyone _investigating_ this?”

“Yeah, I hired a private _dick_ to come to my rescue,” Roxas sarcastically replied, Axel pointing at him, saying seriously, _“Hey.”_ Roxas shot him a look, but subsided. “Yes, the police got involved, for the first one. But do you know what a hassle it all was? I nearly lost my position on the research team.”

Thinking quietly that that would have in fact been the best thing for him, Axel out loud said, “And then what? You just stopped reporting it and allowed people to beat you up? How many times has it happened?”

The blond begrudgingly answered, “Saturday night was the fourth.”

Axel positively gaped. “Four attacks? In six months? With only the first one reported?”

“Yes? Are you done now? Your permanent upward inflection is annoying me?” Roxas snapped back.

“Man, kid, your personality could use some work,” Axel sighed, shaking his head.

“Right, because _you_ are the expert on likeability,” Roxas retorted. They glared at one another. Then, Axel shook his head.

“So, you want me to _not_ submit a report, because, what? This is a personal problem, rather than a professional one?”

“Right,” Roxas confidently responded. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

Wryly, Axel pointed to his head, where for several hours into Sunday he had sported a fashionable lump. “My lingering bruises say otherwise.”

Roxas grimaced. “Listen, I’m sorry you got involved. I am. If I could take it back, I would.”

“I wouldn’t,” Axel answered simply. When the blond blinked, he asked, “You think I’d just let you get beaten up?”

“I told you, I know how to fight,” came the stubborn response.

“Either way,” Axel replied, “I’m glad I was there. If I’m wearing some of the bruises that were intended for you, then, good. I’m happy.”

Roxas shook his head. “You know something, Axel? You are _weird.”_

A slight grin spread across the redhead’s face. “That may be, but it’s all worth it if it means I get to spring to your rescue like some kind of valiant knight.”

Roxas rolled his eyes. “I think you might be overselling yourself there.” He fixed a steady look on the man, frowning slightly. “So, can I trust you to keep it to yourself?”

Axel hesitated, all sorts of thoughts conflicting. If Roxas was being semi-regularly targeted, did that in fact confirm there was another contract out on him, in the present? If so, was it by the same person who had employed the Organisation to send Axel back? And if that was the case, why hadn’t he been informed? Or was this an entirely different party interested in the kid’s premature demise?

“Ugh.” Axel buried his face briefly in his hands. “Too many questions. Doesn’t this shit keep you up at night?”

Roxas hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m not dead yet, right? If they were anything more than thugs, I’m sure they would have tried harder.”

“But you have _no_ idea who is doing this?”

Roxas shook his head. “After the first time, when they investigated, the cops couldn’t find any leads. Whoever these guys are…” He trailed off, glancing up at Axel. “Well, I can handle them, anyway.”

Axel sighed, rubbing at his chin, silent for a long minute. At length, he nodded. “Okay. It’ll be our little secret.” He scowled. “But I’m not exactly happy about it. Tell you what, I’ll do it on one condition.”

Looking wary, Roxas asked, “Oh?”

“The next time you’re leaving late and the parking lot is empty, let me walk you to your car – all right?”

Apparently not expecting that to be at the top of the list of requests, Roxas wavered, then agreed. “Okay. That doesn’t seem so hard.”

“And can we start over, maybe?” Axel requested. As Roxas blew out his cheeks and started to look irritated, he rapidly went on, “I _know_ that you and that Pence kid are friends, and I’m sorry I was an ass to him. Really. I was new, and he was coming on a little strong, and I’m kind of – I’m a lone wolf type. I wanted to put some distance between us, it was instinct.”

“If that’s the case, then why were you so desperate to get buddy-buddy with me?” Roxas challenged.

Axel faltered, let the question hang between them, deliberately making things awkward. Eventually, he said, “Um. I just – I mean, it’s not like I’m _desperate._ Obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” The blond did sardonic like a pro.

“I just thought you seemed… nice.” He was banking on the feebleness and obvious floundering to come across as somewhat endearing rather than just weak. As hoped, it seemed to reach Roxas, albeit through what felt like miles of scepticism. Nonetheless, he would swear the kid’s face softened.

“Yeah, well… just keep Saturday night to yourself.” Hands back in his pockets, Roxas looked away and reluctantly granted, “I’ll – talk to you through the glass, instead of pretending they hired a potato to guard the doors.”

Axel laughed quietly. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Looking like the outcome wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted, but satisfied enough,Roxas started backing towards the door. “Okay, well, I’m going to go now, then. Meeting over.”

“Any time you ever want to stop by again…” Axel let the offer hang, Roxas rolling his eyes slightly.

“Oh, I’ll run right over. We’ll have buckets of fun. I can’t wait to crack the crusty pages of your porn stash. Which, by the way, gross.” He tilted his head, blond spikes bobbing, a slight smirk in place as he asked, “Is _that_ what you were doing Saturday night when it took you so long to come to my ‘valiant rescue’?”

Axel crossed the distance between them in two long paces, looming suddenly over Roxas, who stumbled the final step back out of the office. Axel grabbed his arm to hold him steady, and squeezed lightly. Gaze becoming hooded, he confessed, “Well, you know, that night – the girlie magazines weren’t _all_ I had to look at…” He slowly released the boy’s arm, the corner of his mouth curling up. “If I were you, I’d be wondering how I noticed so _fast_ that you were in danger.”

He held Roxas’ gaze for a stretching moment – then closed the door and locked it. He smothered a laugh behind his hand, the sight of Roxas’ startled blue eyes and the faintest stain of a blush on his cheeks enough to keep him grinning all night.

Mission accomplished. He was in.

 


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

After Roxas’ visit to Axel’s bulletproof little office, the rest of the night passed much more predictably. Researchers came, researchers left, and Roxas, as he shuffled past at the end of the night, darted a look through the window and inclined his head. His expression was cautious, the motion was slight – but it was the start of something better that Axel had been striving for. He was satisfied.

He kept Saturday night’s attack to himself. There was still security footage of the event, but unless he personally called attention to it, no one would bother to watch it. Once he was ready to eliminate Roxas he would be destroying it all, anyway. No official record of Axel Drake would remain. The most anyone would ever have of him was some grocery store footage, if they really went looking, and even that would lose all significance thirty years from now. He was as good as a phantom, flitting in and out, snuffing a life and then disappearing back into the ether. Or, in his case, a Mako haze.

At times, the power of it all was damn near intoxicating.

He reached home-sweet-basement near dawn, yawning broadly, dragging a hand through his hair and glancing idly up and down the street as he locked his car. Despite the shoddy nature of the neighbourhood, at this hour there was no one about – all the sinisters were tucked up in bed or the morgue by now. This Lowtown place really wasn’t so bad.

The apartment was cold, but a welcome change from the confines of car or office. A life like this was nearly turning him tame – sleep at day, work at night, eat, scratch, sleep at day. Now that he had gained ground with Roxas, even if only slightly, he felt a great tension slide off his back. He no longer had to agonise over how to find out when Roxas made ‘the difference’ that was expected of him during the next three months; the job, although rocky at first, and still containing the odd bump or two, was once again going according to plan.

.o.O.o.

It was now day seven since he’d stepped through the portal in his own time. Sitting in his cotton pants on the sofa, eating cereal with one hand while leaning over his laptop on the coffee table, Axel’s sharp, green eyes were fixed to the screen as he consolidated his visual data from the week. All the photos he’d taken, he now sifted through, identifying the important ones and disposing of those that were too blurry, or useless due to angle or light. What he wanted was a solid mental picture of Roxas’ bungalow. He wanted to know its dimensions, how many steps there were up to the short veranda, how many windows and where they faced, how long the path was and how long it would take to get from the curb to the front door – just to begin with.

Once that was compiled, he started checking for blurs in the windows, isolating whichever pictures had inadvertently caught glimpses of Roxas within the house. From this, he could start to form an idea of the blond’s sleeping habits and how much he wandered. It was still a vastly limited stock of information, with a _lot_ of guesswork thrown in, but it was a decent start. The better he got to know Roxas, the closer he’d come to getting a look actually _inside_ the place, all going well. From there, he would memorise what he could and draw a blueprint from which to set up contingencies, various scenarios in which he could get in, out, or through Roxas’ house as efficiently as possible. It wasn’t always possible to get so close to a target, to be able to plan from within the potential killing location, but he was reasonably confident that he had a chance at it this time around. He had found his access point: he would be Roxas’ faithful, love-sick puppy. As long as he didn’t make it creepy and put the kid off, he felt he had a good shot at getting into the bungalow itself.

Just as he was nearly finished, something caught his eye. He almost didn’t notice it, so briefly did his gaze skate over it, and so little did his conscious mind take note. His subconscious, however, released a howl that made his hands freeze as he was preparing to dismiss the image. He paused, eyebrows lowering, staring for a long moment at the screen. Slowly, his eyes moved from corner to corner of the picture, certain that there was something in front of him that had set off the alarm in his head. The image was of the row of houses opposite Roxas’ bungalow, a necessary grab of information for deducing the daytime habits of his neighbours and potential witnesses to the eventual assassination.

It took a minute, but at long last, remaining patient and letting his eyes roam, Axel’s gaze settled on a smudge in the far left of the frame, the blurred image of a pedestrian. It was one of his driving shots, which meant that clarity was rough: he simply held the camera up and took a rapid series of pictures as he passed. As a result, he hadn’t been paying any attention whatsoever to those wandering the sidewalk. Leaning close now, he squinted, studied the smudge, then nibbled on his lower lip and muttered, _“Huh.”_

The pedestrian was one of the silver-haired attackers. The long-haired one that Axel had taken on, no less, which was doubtless why it had given him pause. He didn’t think he’d have recognised it if it had been the other one. But that – that was definitely the long-haired guy.

With renewed focus, he returned to the beginning of the collection and went through them again, more carefully this time, searching for further signs of the man.

He found, out of forty-nine images, five instances of silver-haired men. They were not all the same man. There were, from what Axel could discern, three of them that showed up in the pictures, each with a separate build and hair length, but all bearing similarities striking enough for him to assume they were related in some way.

So, who in the hell were they? What was their aim? He recognised the second man from Saturday night, now that he was aware of their presence, but the third one was totally unfamiliar. Axel sat with his chin on his palm, one finger tapping the tip of his nose, staring intently at the screen. As if it hadn’t been bewildering enough for Roxas to be attacked four times in six months by mystery assailants, now it turned out that the same men not only knew exactly where Roxas lived, but seemed to be patrolling the area. For what purpose? They showed up randomly enough for Axel to assume that they were also around when he was _not,_ which had to mean they were maintaining some kind of – surveillance on the property. But why attack Roxas some of the time, and leave him alone the rest of it? And how long exactly had they been doing this?

It was beyond bizarre. What were they waiting for? What were they hoping to see? Were they, like him, trying to map out Roxas’ goings on? They had already been bold enough to attack him face to face, and put him into hospital at one point no less – so what was staying their hands now? They weren’t subtle – they could easily have broken into his home and assaulted him there, hell, even killed him. _What the hell was their angle?_

The longer he wracked his brains for an answer, the more frustrated he became. The more frustrated he became, the more his impatience swelled. He wished he could return back to his own time for five minutes just to kick Reno extra hard in the nuts, for the crime of providing such uselessly incomplete information on the target. They existed _beyond_ all of this, for Christ’s sake; it had happened so long ago that such details should have been obvious. In Roxas’ case file, there should have beena record of his recent hospital stay, and the subsequent police investigation – there should have been _some_ mention of _this._

Instead, all he had was what he’d photographed by accident, too distracted by stalking the target to notice that he wasn’t the only one doing so. And if he wasn’t the only one…

Blinking, Axel sat up straighter. Holy shit, were these guys competition? Had Roxas really managed to incur two contracts on his life within the same period of time? Obviously these guys weren’t part of the Organisation, which meant they were had to be schmucks from the present timeline. What other reason could there be for them to be performing this kind of surveillance? They sure as hell weren’t trying to _protect_ the kid.

This… created problems. Sinking his hands into his hair, Axel stared at the floor, then squeezed his eyes shut and hissed, _“Shit.”_

See, the problem with jumping back from the future to fuck around with the past was that no matter what, you affected things. Obviously putting that bullet into someone was self-evident, but other things got affected, too, things the assassin in question had no intention of influencing. For example, Axel was currently influencing the employee register at the Research Committee by being on the payroll; he was influencing the tenancy of the basement he was renting, and the landlord’s income; he was even, apparently, influencing the conversations that Pence the Temp and Roxas were having in their downtime. This was stuff he couldn’t really avoid, not unless he was planning a true shadow killing, staying completely off the timeline’s radar, a hundred percent self-sufficient until he made the hit and disappeared. Three months was not a manageable period for staying out of the way, however, and therefore he _would_ be causing ripples here and there.

With what was possibly a different set of hitmen in the mix, things got tricky, quickly. It was obvious to Axel that the first time around, in the original, untouched timeline, Roxas had avoided such a sticky end, at least until after the Cornerstone Theory had been proven, at which point it didn’t matter either way what happened to the kid. However, with Axel suddenly around, changing things by, say, interfering with their attacks, and especially with his own plans to get into Roxas’ confidence and spend time with him, he might tip things in such a way as to ensure their goddamn victory.

What if Axel made it so that Roxas was in the right place at the right time for _them_ to make the hit? It was entirely possible. And _that_ meant that his presence here would be utterly negated – no kill, no pay. He would have to slink back to his own time with the knowledge that Roxas Black’s death would be attributed to forces other than him, before the specified moment. Not only would that be annoying – _so_ annoying – it would also damage his professional reputation. The client would be pissed, the Organisation would be pissed, and the next time a lucrative job showed up, Axel sure as hell wouldn’t be the one they turned to. He’d be dropped right down to the bottom of the food chain.

So – what to do?

He couldn’t just jump in and eliminate the trio, because that wasn’t what he was here for. He had to avoid that outcome at all costs, leaving it only as a reluctant final solution. The Organisation frowned upon such things – they weren’t a terrorist group, killing at will; they were surgeons, coldly and expertly cutting into the timeline with as little collateral damage as possible. You start stabbing a few other faces along the way, and things get murky. Scar tissue gets left behind.

But he couldn’t let them make the hit, either. He would absolutely intervene before that happened, because the whole damn _point_ of getting friendly with Roxas was so he could monitor when the Cornerstone Theory research reached its breakthrough. If Roxas died before then, he could just write the whole job off.

Sighing sharply, Axel glared, suddenly back to feeling the strain. Just when he thought things were going to be predictable, _this_ wrench got thrown in. Sure, it had been entertaining for a while to encounter a job that had a few hidden compartments, but now it was getting the point where he would have gladly just gone with a same-old, same-old situation. At least then he could be sure of a success. As things stood… he would need to monitor Roxas even moreclosely. He would need to stick to him as much as possible, really make sure he was taken care of, that he was _safe._

Sitting back, he crossed his arms, thinking hard.

He was going to need to speed things along.

.o.O.o.

“Hey – temp kid. Pence!”

Pence stopped, turned around, looked exasperated. “Do we really gotta do this again?” he inquired, as Axel jogged along the hallway of the Research Committee building’s fifth floor to catch up to him.

The temp kid was pushing an industrial-sized shredder along on a dolly, the perspiration on his brow suggesting it wasn’t the easiest job in the world. Having been interrupted, he took the opportunity to set it down, wiping a wrist over his face.

Axel leaned an elbow on the machine, leaned close to the kid and asked, “Hey, tell me – what does Roxas like?”

Pence wrinkled his nose, sending over a sceptical look. “What, like, hobbies?”

Axel snorted. “I don’t need the dissertation on him – just, for example, what does he like to eat? What’s his favourite candy, restaurant, that sort of thing?”

The temp kid sighed, rolling his eyes. “Are you for real?”

“It’s a simple question,” Axel defended. “What about you? Are you going to give me attitude _every_ time I talk to you?”

Pence lifted a critical brow. “You mean, every time you come sniffing around for a chance to impress Roxas somehow? Maybe.”

Forming a fist, bumping it into the top of the shredder, he argued quietly, “Come on, man. I’m not hurting anyone here. I’m just asking what Roxas likes to eat.”

Pence jiggled the handle of the dolly, to get Axel to shift away, evidently done with his break or at least sick of the conversation already. “Or you could be brave and ask him yourself?”

“Ehh.” Axel rolled his shoulders, walking with the kid as he kept going, unwilling to just let it drop. “That’s not my style. I’m a background-check kind of guy, so I know what I’m up against.”

“Also known as ‘stalking’,” Pence helpfully suggested. He glanced at Axel, noting that the redhead was matching his pace. “Are you – are you going to keep following me around?”

“Come on, kid. One hint, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I don’t think –” Pence was cut off, stopping with a bump as he rounded the corner and knocked the dolly into someone coming the other way. “Oh, crap!” he yelped. “I’m sorry! Are you -?” Seifer loomed on the shredder’s other side, face contorting with anger. More quietly, Pence repeated, “Oh, crap.”

“The _fuck?_ You just drove that thing right into me! Seems to me that ‘I don’t think’ is your permanent state of being, chicken-wuss,” Seifer snarled.

“Seifer, you oughta kick his ass, y’know?” The gorilla with the vocab to match was right alongside him, full of moral outrage that someone had dared to touch his pack leader.

“What, right here in the halls?” Axel asked. He stepped up next to Pence and watched Seifer’s expression become angrier still.

“Oh, great. It’s _you.”_

Axel blew a kiss. “I love you, too, darlin’.”

Pence nervously glanced between them. “Um, I really am sorry…”

Axel waved him down. “You already apologised, kid. I’m sure that the security guy accepts, right? Security guy?” He smiled pointedly at Seifer, who apparently had forgotten his initial trouncing by Axel’s iron will.

Sneering, Seifer replied, “I don’t think so. This idiot probably bruised my shins with that little trick.”

“You mean the trick of not being able to see around walls until it’s too late?” Axel asked.

His sidekick, every brain cell firing at full blast, said, “He shoulda known that Seifer was coming.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I mean, maybe if he had a _time machine_ or something,” Axel supposed. “He could have been prepared if that was the case. But, you know, even then, I don’t think time travel really sets you up for every scenario.” He shrugged. “So many variables at play, who knows _what_ to expect?”

Seifer shook his head, bewildered by the conversation. “What the hell kind of bullshit are you _spouting,_ asshole?”

“Excuse me, I’m not an asshole, I’m a dick,” Axel corrected, earning a glance from Pence that might have been amused had he not been worried about getting beaten up, “and for the record, it’s a very thought-provoking discussion topic that I would dearly like all the answers to.” He clapped his hands sharply together. “But, considering the company I’m in, I don’t see us getting far. _So._ What now?”

“Now, you shut the fuck _up!”_ Seifer, evidently not well schooled in the art of restraining one’s impulses, stepped forward and made as if to gut-punch Axel. Perhaps he thought he could have a heroic moment of winding the redhead and cutting a witty one-liner about whether or not Axel had something else to say.

A futile endeavour.

Axel calmly caught his fist, twisted it, bumped Seifer’s legs out from under him and had him on his knees with his wrist a nice, quick rotation away from being snapped. Seifer’s eyes bugged, his mouth flying open, his brain taking several seconds to catch up. Before he could begin yelling, however, Axel had released him. It took roughly four seconds to execute, and was balletic enough that if viewed later on video feed it would look positively benign – like Axel had twirled him and he’d lost his footing.

“Whoops, how’d you get down there, champ?” Axel spoke with casual puzzlement, as if, like everyone else with their jaws suddenly hanging, he was surprised by the turn of events. He even, for the sake of the security cameras, extended a hand down to the blond. “Need some help?”

Seifer snapped back to himself. Slapping Axel’s hand away, he clawed his way up to his feet and jumped back as if bitten. “You!” he choked, rubbing his wrist, then, seeming to have run right through his repertoire, spun and stormed away. The gorilla, with one last shocked glance Axel’s way, was quick to follow suit.

“I think they forgot why they were mad in the first place,” Axel mused. He turned to Pence, who was staring with wide-eyed awe. “You okay there, Peter?”

Pence blinked at the moniker, fingers squeezing around the handle of the dolly like he’d forgotten he was still holding it. It took him a short while to speak, but when he did, he said, “…Sea-salt candies.”

Head tilting, Axel was briefly confused. “Come again?”

“Anything salty and sweet. He likes the contrast. But especially sea-salt candies, and the ice cream bars. You can’t go wrong.” He shot Axel a meaningful look, to make sure he’d cottoned on, then resumed pushing the dolly.

Axel watched him go, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across his face.

.o.O.o.

The next evening, when Roxas arrived for another long night at the lab, Axel was prepared. Since their agreement the other night, they had started making idle small talk when he was swiping the kid’s I.D., minor stuff like the weather or traffic, or the news of the day. This time, however, Axel had a game changer up his sleeve.

Roxas frowned at the unfamiliar rattle that accompanied his identification card being slid back through to his side of the window. Then, as he found the two individually wrapped sea-salt candies, his eyebrows shot up into his hair. “Eh?” He glanced at Axel’s look of poorly-concealed satisfaction. “What’s this?”

“I heard you like those,” he cheerfully explained. “So when I realised I had some in my office already, I thought I’d share.”

“Where’d you…? Oh. Pence.” Roxas hesitated, then plucked them up out of the tray. As he stood there, he opened one up, the wrapper crinkling noisily in the quiet passageway. Lifting his gaze to meet Axel’s, he plopped the candy into his mouth, Axel able to hear it click against his teeth. “Thanks.” It bulged out from his cheek as he pushed it over for the long-haul suck-into-nothingness. “But you know,” the blond went on, retrieving his I.D. and pocketing the second candy, “I would’ve been much more impressed if you’d just boasted about how you saved him from a certain beating and sent Seifer running with his tail between his legs.” His blue eyes twinkled, a faint smirk touching his mouth. “Maybe you’re not so bad, after all, Ace.”

Apparently pleased with the startled expression on Axel’s face, Roxas continued on, humming quietly to himself around the sea-salt treat. Axel watched through the monitors until Roxas disappeared into the elevator, then into the lab and out of sight.

He was in something of a daze for the rest of the night, replaying their short exchange over and over in his head, the mental reel stalling slightly each time at the sight of Roxas pushing the candy into his open mouth.

 


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Several nights passed before Axel had any further opportunity to work on Roxas, but they were nights, at least, in which the blond chatted with him amiably at the guard station. He could never linger long, due to others arriving and the ever-present threat of Ansem’s winning scowl, but Axel was satisfied that he had at least broken through that first solid barrier. Roxas no longer treated him coldly, or seemed to loathe him – his recent actions had evidently won over both the blond and the temp kid in one fell swoop, unwitting though it may have been.

Still, it wasn’t enough. Being on friendly terms was a great _start_ and all, but Axel felt the nagging need to keep the momentum up; he wasn’t going to be privy to anything muchif a sheet of bullet-proof glass remained perpetually between them. He needed more of Roxas’ time, more of his attention, needed to become a fixture in his life. Three months sounded like a long time, sure, in theory – but as each day ran into the next, and the research continued, the day of Roxas’ big contribution could have been looming with Axel none the wiser.

He had to figure out how to move things _fast_ without putting the kid _off._ He just didn’t have the information necessary to let things happen in due time; he needed total access to Roxas’ confidence as swiftly as possible. The romantic approach remained his best bet – he just had to play his cards so that he came across as irresistible rather than desperate. He needed to get Roxas _seduced._

It was the Saturday again before he managed to push things ahead, one week on from when the silver-haired duo had jumped Roxas in the parking lot. Roxas had been warming up to him for around six nights, but their conversation topics remained shallow; there was only so much you could discuss in a cold hallway through a window. Therefore, on the Saturday night, as one scientist after another vacated the research lab, with Roxas not among them, Axel began to see his opportunity approaching. He watched the security monitors with bated breath, pulse jolting each time someone accessed the elevator until it was only Roxas and Ansem left. Axel stared intently at the screen showing the elevator’s interior, the fingers of one hand balled tight, while those of the other drummed the desk with a combination of impatience and anticipation.

At last, the elevator sank, its heavy clanking echoing along the passageway. As it came to rest at the lab and opened its doors, Axel’s fingernails found his palms. When Ansem stepped into view, he punched the air silently, hissing, _“Yes,_ get out of here, you old bastard.”

Obligingly, the professor did just that, passing by a minute later with his usual air of slightly arrogant dignity, offering Axel a cool nod as he passed, which the redhead returned quickly, masking his glee. “Enjoy your night, sir,” he called. He watched the screens until Ansem had climbed into his car and driven away, thoroughly pleased with the way things were working out.

It was another half hour before Roxas appeared, looking tired. “Good night, Axel,” he said, waving as he passed, but there was no way in hell Axel was letting him get away that easily.

“Whoa, whoa – hey, wait!” He jumped out of his chair and went to the door, unlocking it and exiting into the hallway. Roxas looked surprised.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Remember our deal?” Axel jerked a thumb at the guard station, its monitors still aglow. “You’re the last one out, Roxas. You’ve got to wait for me to close up shop, so I can walk you to your car.”

Giving a groan, Roxas sagged a little, complaining, “Come on, Axel, I’m sleepy. Nothing’s going to happen, they wouldn’t attack me twice in a row like that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that you’d subscribed to their newsletter – is ‘Beat Up Roxas Night’ only every second Saturday of the month?” Axel’s arch sarcasm brought a scowl to the blond’s face, followed by a huff.

“You know, you’re still kind of a dick,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but as long as I’m a dick when it matters, it’s all for the greater good,” Axel drawled. He jabbed a finger at the boy. “Don’t renege on our deal – this is what you agreed to so that I wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened, right?”

Roxas sighed. “Well… yeah. Shit. Okay, fine.”

Brightening, Axel ordered, “Wait right there – this won’t take long.” He moved rapidly, drawing the steel cover down over the window, shutting the system down for the night. He was halfway through changing into his street clothes when Roxas stuck his head in, demanding irritably, “Is this really your idea of ‘won’t take long’? Did I forget to mention that I’m _sleepy?”_

“Now who’s being a dick?” Axel asked, turning and enjoying the sight of the blond’s eyes widening at discovering him just as he was finishing unbuttoning his work shirt. Axel _had_ in fact been trying to be quick, but with Roxas in the room at a moment like this, he slowed imperceptibly, drawing the moment out. “All I’m trying to do is help you,” he went on, lazily popping the final button and shrugging the dark fabric off his shoulders. By not reacting to Roxas’ presence, he cut short any reflex the blond might have had to apologise and back out of the room, the kid instead suspended in the doorway, caught in the conversation that he had started.

“Um – yeah, well, I guess so. And I appreciate the sentiment and all. It’s just, I’ve had a long night, and…”

Axel casually shook the shirt out and folded it, twisting to his duffel bag on the desk and bundling it in. Roxas couldn’t help but stare, the red-haired man suppressing a smirk. “Oh, I understand that much,” he said, the very picture of calm and reason. “But I just feel like…” He paused, darting a look at Roxas, who quickly glanced up from his slender waist. “…it’s worth taking a minute longer to keep you safe,” he finished, a softness entering his voice.

Roxas’ gaze quickly dropped to the floor, a hint of a warmth colouring his face. “Oh. Uh. Okay.”

Axel dragged a t-shirt out and slipped it on, making sure to pause the tiniest bit as he lifted his arms to tug it over his head. His was the body of an assassin – compact, slimly muscular, all core strength and tautness – and he had _no_ problem giving Roxas a good eyeful. When his face popped out from the shirt, hair mussed, hands tugging the hem down to the belt of his jeans, he took satisfied note of the distracted quality of Roxas’ expression. This had been a _delightfully_ unexpected occurrence, as well as a boost to his confidence. Roxas obviously found him attractive to _look_ at; now as long as he followed that up with a pleasant enough personality, he was pretty sure he had a damn good shot at making this work.

He pulled on a padded jacket for warmth, hooked the straps of his bag over his shoulder, made a final check of his workstation, then smiled at Roxas as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Okay. We’re good to go.”

Not quite meeting his eyes, Roxas nodded, and, after locking up, Axel accompanied him down the hall and up into the basement parking lot. The entire time, and in the elevator especially, Axel allowed the awkward silence that had developed to thicken and hang. He sent frequent glances Roxas’ way, and whenever the blond happened to be looking back, offered a smile that lifted the corners of his eyes before looking quickly forward again. If this wasn’t the beginnings of sexual tension, then he didn’t know what the hell was.

As they approached Roxas’ lonely-looking car, Axel turned, scanning the parking lot carefully. Despite the bashful act he had going, he’d kept his senses acute from the moment the elevator doors had opened, listening and watching for any sign of the guys from last week, or their as-yet unmet third member. The fact that they were a no-show wasn’t exactly a cause for celebration – the fact remained that they were out there _somewhere…_ maybe even, right at this moment, outside Roxas’ house. The thought made Axel’s teeth grit.

“Axel?” Roxas was watching him with some uncertainty.

“Oh, uh.” He smiled again, the fleeting darkness that had touched his features vanishing from sight. “Well, it looks like you were right. That newsletter must be handy.” He bent down to peer beneath the car, patting its side as he straightened, declaring, “No bears or monsters here.”

Roxas laughed a little, scratching behind his ear. “Well, that’s always good to know. Thanks.” His keys jingled lightly as he pulled them from his pocket, Axel feeling a great consternation come over him at the fact that Roxas would soon be gone from his presence and vulnerable. He _knew_ the outside of the kid’s house – there was this one sweet spot where anyone could hide in the bushes and grab him as he walked along the path from the carport, or sneak up behind him as he unlocked the front door and push him inside with barely a sound being made. At this time of night, when no one was around, it’d be a cakewalk to do it without witnesses. _Shit._

“Um, hey! Roxas.” The words pushed from his mouth with some anxiety, pausing the blond as he started to open the car door. As Roxas raised a questioning brow, Axel drew a breath, leaned a hand against the car, and gave him a charming grin. “The night is still _kind_ of young, right? It seems like a waste to just let a Saturday slip away like this. Why don’t you and I go and, I don’t know, grab a bite to eat?”

The beginnings of a grimace touched Roxas’ face. “…Do I need to tell you again how tired I am? I’ve been working my butt off all night, Axel. I don’t really feel like it.”

“No, but, well – yeah, I hear you,” the man hastily said, changing tack to instead sound sympathetic, “and that’s why I thought to myself, ‘you know what? This guy needs a coffee and some sustenance, like, yesterday’. That’s what I thought.”

“Oh, that’s sweet – so you were thinking of _me_ when you suggested it?” Roxas asked, entirely too aware that Axel was lying through his teeth.

Axel replied with, “I’m always thinking of you.” Then he clicked his teeth together sharply, and widened his eyes. It was a desperate measure – Christ knows it _sounded_ desperate, which really was _not_ the vibe he was going for – and Roxas reacted accordingly.

Reluctance growing, Roxas looked away, saying, “Axel…”

Figuring that now that he was on this train, he might as well ride it out to its inevitable fiery wreck, he urged quietly, “Just a coffee, Roxas. We never get to talk outside of work, and I just – I’d like to get to know you better. It won’t be weird or anything – just a coffee. And I do know you’re tired, but…” He went for a crooked, hopeful grin. “We _do_ have tomorrow off. You can sleep your life away.”

Roxas hesitated, seeming torn, which was all Axel needed.

He gave a gentle, “Please?”

The blond closed his eyes. “…Okay, Axel.” Thank God the kid was a soft touch. Sighing, Roxas asked, “Where do you want to go? _Just_ a coffee, though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Axel happily agreed. “Coffee is fine. Great! There’s an all-night diner on my way home, I can lead the way.”

Resigned to his sleep-deprived fate, Roxas waved a hand, a gesture of, _Well, after you._ Digging into his pocket for his car keys, Axel hurried over to his rental, hearing Roxas’ car rumble to life behind him. He felt a twinge, wondering, for half a second, if the kid was just going to change his mind and zoom off – but no, Roxas was waiting for him, probably impatiently knowing him. Axel didn’t push his luck. He got his own car started as fast as possible, and pulled out of his bay. With Roxas’ headlights in his mirrors, Axel drove ahead, waiting at the top of the driveway for Roxas to get through the security gate before heading out onto the road.

It was times like this that he was glad he’d made the effort to drive around and get to know the area; the diner he’d chosen wasn’t, in fact, on his way home at all. One of his priorities was keeping Roxas as _far_ from his basement apartment as possible. The last thing he wanted was for the two of them to become a memorable pair, which meant going somewhere where the locals didn’t know either of them enough to take notice of who was keeping whom company. There were places in which Axel was a familiar sight, and places where Roxas was, and never should the twain meet.

Axel chose a place that was somewhere between both their territories, and parked. Roxas pulled to a stop in the next bay, and together they climbed out into the chilly, pre-dawn air. A breeze was blowing, Axel giving a faux-shiver and grinning across the top of his car at Roxas. “Brr – brisk,” he remarked.

“Yeah, how about that,” the blond muttered back. Axel felt his favour slipping; the kid had obviously had too much time to think during the drive, and seemed to have started resenting Axel for denying him the sleep he badly needed.

Figuring that it would improve once they were inside and surrounded by warm scents, he wasted no further time. He led the way, reaching the brightly-lit restaurant and pushing inside, holding the door for Roxas to slouch through. They took a booth at the back of the room, the diner quiet at this hour, the only other customers a couple of truck-drivers sitting at the opposite end next to the windows.

“So – coffee, right?” Axel picked up one of the menus wedged at the back of the napkin dispenser, scanning the specials. “You don’t feel hungry or anything? There’s waffles – or omelette,” he enticed.

“Just the coffee, thanks,” Roxas said, shaking his head.

Axel signalled the waitress and ordered, while Roxas fidgeted, looking like he was wondering how he’d ended up here instead of home in bed. As the woman left to get their drinks, the same awkward sort of silence fell as had  followed them from Axel’s workstation to the parking lot, only this time undesirably so. Carefully cultivated silence could convey all sorts of things – this was just uncomfortable.

“So…” Axel studied Roxas, who glanced over with heavy eyes. Maybe right after work _hadn’t_ been an ideal time to try and jump-start the courting process – but when the hell else _could_ he? If it wasn’t the nights that Roxas was last to get his ass out the door, Axel couldn’t do it. It was perfectly frustrating that the job that had situated him so brilliantly was the very thing that was preventing him from making his move more effectively.

He had to make it count, then. The kid didn’t look inclined to linger over his coffee in this state; Axel had to break this ice and get him talking. “How was work?” was his first attempt. Might as well try and kill two birds with one stone.

The look he received was positively scathing. “Axel.” Roxas spoke with forced patience, belying the dead-eyed stare he was now sending on account of what the man was only just beginning to realise might have been a bad first-choice topic. “I just spent the entire night _at_ work. It was long. And tiring. And I spent that entiiiire time thinking about and talking about _work._ When you invited me out for coffee, I was expecting something a little better than yet more _work talk.”_

Point taken, Axel cringed a little. “Uh, yeah. Right. My bad.” He scratched his head, thought, and tried again, feeling the pressure of Roxas’ withering blue gaze. “How’s your buddy Pence going?”

Roxas sat back a little, head tilting. “…Pence is okay.”

Thankful to have not met with another brick wall, Axel smiled eagerly. “Yeah? Good. Glad to hear it. He’s a nice guy – friendly. I really am sorry that I made such a bad first impression on him. Thinking back on it, I feel kind of lucky that he bothers to give me the time of day.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair, affecting a self-deprecating air.

Roxas asked flatly, “Is this the point where you tell me you’ve got a secret crush on him or something? You seem like the type who might tease the person he likes.”

 _Oh, come on._ “No – definitely not,” Axel hastily clarified. He pointed both index fingers for emphasis. “No, the kid’s all right, but not in _that_ way, I was just asking because of all that crap the other day with that Seifer guy.”

“Ah.” Roxas nodded slightly, seeming to accept this. “Right. Well, yeah, he’s fine. Seifer hasn’t made any further moves on him, probably thanks to you.” The faintest of smiles touched his mouth. “Pence has been making a big deal about you since then. That’s why I maybe wondered…”

“Oh, hell no, I am _not_ interested in him,” Axel blurted firmly, then, as Roxas looked ready to be offended on behalf of his friend for the _absolute_ certainty with which he had rejected the temp kid in advance, he stumbled to amend, “I mean, um, wait a minute…”

To his utmost relief, rather than slamming him right back to square one, Roxas began looking wryly amused. “You like to dig holes for yourself, don’t you? Are you always like this?”

Axel hesitated. “…I’ve gotta confess, I was dropped on my head a _lot_ as a baby.”

“You can be kind of an idiot, can’t you?” Roxas’ humour grew, the smile becoming lop-sided as Axel hung his head. “But I guess that’s okay,” the blond conceded magnanimously. “At least it means you end up saying what’s on your mind.” He sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. “And… you _did_ help out my friend, so you can’t be all bad.”

“I – thanks? I think?” Axel ventured. As Roxas chuckled, he asked, “What’s with that Seifer guy, anyway? Every time I see him, he’s being an asshole, especially if your friend is around.”

Roxas shrugged. “Being an asshole is Seifer’s default attitude. It doesn’t help that we all went to high school together.”

“No kidding? That guy – has an _education?”_

Roxas smirked, and their coffees arrived. Axel noted the size of them – it would take around fifteen to twenty minutes at a regular pace, with conversation, to drink them down.

“So, if you all went to high school together,” Axel prompted, “I’m guessing that means it was around here somewhere?”

Roxas sighed a little, feeling the edges of his cup to test the heat of the coffee. “You really want to know more about me?”

Axel nodded at once. “I do.”

Roxas scrutinised him for a moment, seeming to assess his level of sincerity, before apparently giving in. “Okay – yes, we went to school in the area. Pence and I went to college upstate, then came back, and I got into the program for the Cornerstone Project.”

“The same place where that jerk is security? What luck,” Axel dryly said.

“He’s friends with one of the researchers, Fuu,” Roxas told him. “It’s kind of like how I got Pence a job there so he can save up some money. It’s the sort of place where it’s good to have your foot in the door somehow.” A look of curiosity came over his face. “I have to say, _your_ appointment surprised me. None of us expected Ansem to employ anyone for security again after the last guys sold him out.”

Axel shrugged lightly. “I came well recommended.”

“Oh, yeah? By who?” Roxas asked. Axel considered him cautiously.

“I have a placement agency that finds work for me. Wherever they think I’d serve a purpose, I go.”

“What’s the agency name? Where are they located?”

“What’s your interest?” he returned, a sharpness entering his tone, unbidden. Roxas blinked, while Axel internally cursed.

“I was just thinking it could be good for Pence,” the blond replied. “Christ. Sorry I asked.”

“No. My fault.” Axel forced a thin smile. “Um – sorry. I apologise for that. Must be the caffeine hitting my system.” He took a gulp of coffee, while Roxas scowled. Then he spread his hands upon the table, long fingers spaced apart and took a deep breath. “To be honest… the agency isn’t going to be around for much longer,” he lied, injecting every ounce of regret and unhappiness into his tone. “They made some bad financial calls, and I’ve been told they’re releasing all their clients and declaring bankruptcy. So, sorry, it’s no good for Pence. I just found out recently. It’s made me… tense about the subject.”

Roxas’ expression eased somewhat, albeit warily. “Oh, really? Well… that blows, I guess. What happens to you?”

“Once I’m done with the current job, I’ll be on my own, I guess,” he said, using apprehension now to give his words weight. He watched Roxas shift from almost hostile to awkwardly sympathetic.

“I see. Sorry.”

This time, the lull that occurred was deliberate again on Axel’s part. He sighed a secret breath of relief and cast about for a new topic, seeming for all the world like he was deflecting the conversation back to more comfortable ground, which, technically, he was. He should have been better prepared for questions like that. Members of the Organisation were taught to be reticent with personal information above all else, but the kid was bound to want to know more about him. Axel just hadn’t thought it would jump so quickly to the behind-the-scenes stuff he _couldn’t_ talk about.

“So, uh – have you seen any sign of those guys from last week?” he asked, neatly distracting Roxas from the tension that he’d managed to create. The blond’s expression went curiously bland.

“Nope. No sign.” He sipped his coffee. Axel rested an elbow on the table, chin on his knuckles, and narrowed his eyes.

“Hmm. You wouldn’t happen to know more than you’re letting on, would you?”

Roxas placed down his cup, sending him a long, steady look. “Axel, please. If I _knew_ something about those guys, I would tell someone. You asked me a question, and I answered it. What am I meant to do, fret and chew my fingernails when I talk about them?”

“You just seem weirdly calm about it all,” Axel mentioned. “It makes a guy wonder.”

“Well, wonder no more,” the blond dryly replied. “The fact of the matter is, I don’t know who they are, or if or when they’ll strike again.”

“Four times in half a year is a fairly good indicator that they’ll keep trying,” Axel pointed out, frowning. “Do you even _suspect_ why they might be doing it? Anything at all – come on, give me a hint.”

Roxas shot him an annoyed glance. “You’re persistent.”

“No kidding,” the redhead agreed, without missing a beat, “now, spill it – there are no wrong answers. There are some guys randomly ambushing you: your first instinct is to say it’s because of…?”

“…Well, obviously it’s because I know such irritating people,” Roxas responded, “and they want to stop me before I unleash them upon the world.” Axel reached across the table and sharply flicked his nose. The kid’s look of surprise could not have been more comical. “What the hell was that for?” he asked in an injured tone, touching the end of his nose gingerly.

“It was self-defence,” Axel claimed. “I am nowhere near irritating enough to be considered a threat to global safety. Not to the point where _you’d_ get attacked, at least.” Drawing a breath, growing serious now, he sent Roxas an imploring look. “Come on, Roxas. I’m asking out of genuine concern here. What if I hadn’t been there last week? What if I’m not there the next time? I know you said you told the cops and nothing good came of it, but aren’t you _worried?_ Doesn’t it bother you? Don’t you wonder why it’s happening?”

“Of course I wonder,” the boy bit off, gazing moodily across the restaurant, finally dropping the act. “But what the hell can anyone do about it? I can defend myself now. That’s all I need.”

“Are you _serious?”_ Axel could hardly comprehend his stubbornness. “So the cops fail _one time_ to gather evidence, and that’s it? You’re on your own? You’re just never going to report it again?” Roxas drank some coffee, effectively answering with a total lack of answer. Axel sat back, astounded, dragging his hands through his vivid hair. “And _then_ what?” he demanded, after a pause. “When does it end?”

“That doesn’t concern you, Axel,” Roxas coolly replied, his eyes coming around to meet Axel’s. “You’re not involved in this, even if you _were_ there last time. I would have been fine.”

“How do you know that? It was two against one, and they had you _good,”_ Axel argued heatedly. “If I hadn’t been there, who _knows_ what would’ve happened?”

“And I appreciate your help,” Roxas replied, voice starting to harden now, “but that doesn’t automatically make it your problem. I’ll _deal_ with it.”

“Will you? Because from what I observed, your version of ‘dealing with it’ involved one guy holding you while the other guy punched,” Axel shot back. Before the blond could continue, he went on, “And before you try that ‘you’re not involved’ crap again, I _am_ involved, I’ve _been_ involved since last weekend, and I’m not just going to stop _caring_ about it. I’m not going to drop this, Roxas. Your safety matters to me.”

He was damn well telling the truth there, and it showed. There was genuine frustration in his face, along with a hint of anger at being rebuffed so soundly over something he had no choice _but_ to concern himself with. Roxas was, for a moment, rendered silent.

“I get the feeling you _do_ know more than you’re letting on,” Axel suggested, into the pause.

Roxas looked down at the table. “Look – Axel – it’s nice of you to care, but…”

  1. The kid wasn’t going to budge. Not yet. Massaging his forehead – feeling the beginnings of a headache forming; how did this guy _get_ to him so badly? – Axel took a moment to regroup. Glancing at Roxas, he saw gloom on the kid’s features, and knew he couldn’t let the rest of this chance he had wither away with such negativity.



With effort, Axel dropped the subject. Now wasn’t the time to push, it would seem. As long as he kept a close eye on Roxas, he could… try and keep him safe. God, this was painful. Until such a time as either he found out on his own, or Roxas saw fit to divulge a little more on the subject, he would maintain his focus, as he had done so far, in trying to get closer to the blond.

He cleared his throat, and asked, “So – Roxas – are you… seeing anyone right now?”

It took a moment for the question to register, as out of the blue as it was. The blond, who had been staring down into his drink, lifted his gaze quickly. “Uh – you mean, like dating?” When Axel nodded, he slowly answered, “No. I’ve been too busy lately for dating.”

Axel, faintly heartened by this, smiled a little, making a show of perking up. “Well, okay. Good.”

“…Good?”

Axel paused. _Huh._ The kid was baiting him – he wanted to hear more. He was trying to push him, nudging him to keep talking; he was interested in Axel asking him about dating.

Letting himself appear a little flustered, he rambled, “Well, I mean, maybe not good for _you…_ you know, being so busy all the time and all… Oh, but, it’s not like I was trying to be an ass about saying it was ‘good’, maybe it _is_ good for you, since it gives you time to focus on your work. But, at the same time, it’s not like work can be _all_ you do, right? Dating probably has a _place_ in there somewhere…” He trailed off, Roxas looking amused again, like this nearly incoherent clumsiness he was exhibiting was somehow endearing. Personally, Axel felt like punching himself. Inspired by such a thing, he said, “I want to punch myself.”

Roxas shook his head faintly, his smile hovering. “Don’t do that. You’re being charmingly idiotic again.”

“Oh. Well – good again, then.” He grinned, feeling a sharp thrill race through him as Roxas slowly mirrored the expression. This was a long hunt, but would be all the more satisfying because of it.

It seemed that for tonight, however, his efforts were over with. As Axel watched, the blond finished his coffee, setting down the empty cup and announcing, “Okay, I’m done.”

“I could order you another one?” Axel offered, but Roxas shook his head.

“Thanks, but I really need to go get some sleep.”

Abandoning his own cup, still half full but utterly irrelevant now that Roxas was making to leave, Axel tossed a few bills on the table and exited with him. They pushed through the glass door into the cold air, dawn’s first rays tracing the horizon, bringing a silver glow to the city. Axel accompanied Roxas to his car and stopped, hands in pockets.

The blond turned to him, a slightly self-conscious smile in place. “Well – thanks for the coffee. It was good to talk to you a little outside of work. It’s been a while since I last properly socialised.”

“We could do it again,” Axel suggested, eyeing him carefully. “I’m not all that social myself. We could socialise each other.”

Roxas leaned against the car, releasing a puff of misted air. “I don’t know. Maybe. After work is pretty tiring, though.”

“What about the Sundays, then? It’s our day off – I could take you out somewhere, we can talk more, get to know each other better…”

A small smile touched the blond’s lips. He sized Axel up, saying, “You really _are_ persistent, huh?” When Axel simply gazed back, face serious, Roxas looked away, rubbing his neck shyly. “…Yeah, okay, Axel. You win. Sunday is probably best… next Sunday, that is.”

Expression lifting, Axel nodded. “Next Sunday it is. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Roxas said, looking surprised by his own answer, “Um – me too.” He turned and opened the car door, climbing in. Axel stepped back as the engine started, condensation steaming from the exhaust pipe. Roxas gave him a slight wave through the window, accompanied by another smile, to which Axel gave a loose, two-fingered salute.

Roxas drove away, Axel twisting to watch the red glow of his tail-lights disappear around the corner. When several minutes had passed, he climbed into his rental and started it up, getting the heater going. He waited another minute or two, then pulled out of the diner parking lot, taking a circuitous route that took him past the kid’s house.

The bungalow had a light on when he drove past, Roxas no doubt showering and changing for bed. Axel wondered if he was thinking of the mini-date he’d actually managed to somehow pull off, despite the hitches, or the longer one he had yet to plan for next Sunday. At that point, he would have nine weeks left in this timeline. He felt the tension of the days moving against him, and tightened his hands around the steering wheel.

He made two passes of Roxas’ place, then, when he was satisfied there were no silver-haired guys lurking, headed home.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Axel’s day off was spent grocery shopping and trawling the internet looking for nightlife hotspots for next week’s date with Roxas. Sunday was an awkward sort of night to hit the town, since Saturday night was generally the weekend’s designated party hour, but he was hoping that in a place as populated and expansive as Archades it wouldn’t show too badly. God only knew, judging by the amount of blue-and-red lights flashing past his little basement throughout the course the night, the lowlifes were still plenty active.

Sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, a beer in one hand while his other scrolled through search results and venue reviews, Axel intended to plan out the perfect sort of evening. Not perfect in the sense of roses and candlelight – yuck – but perfect in that he intended to set Roxas Black’s loins _ablaze,_ and seal the deal nicely.

Wearing a slight grin, Axel’s green eyes were a little brighter than usual, and not just because of the beer. Out of all the confusion and frustration of this job, he was finally going to get at least a _little_ bit of incidental happiness.

Yep – all going well, Axel was going to get laid.

.o.O.o.

As Monday evening rolled around, Axel felt the slightest tingle at the prospect of seeing Roxas again. At long last, things actually seemed to be going _well._ Saturday night’s hasty offer of coffee had been impromptu on his part, brought about by his sudden nervousness for Roxas’ safety as far as the silver-haired trio was concerned, but it had taken him a whole, unexpected leap forward.

Whistling to himself – feeling positively jaunty – he changed into his guard’s uniform and got downstairs without being held up by encounters with either the temp kid or Seifer’s asshole brigade. He unlocked the guard station, ripped open a bag of sea-salt candies, and settled in for the night ahead. As each of the researchers passed, he made friendly small-talk with them, until Roxas arrived.

Smile slowly growing, Axel watched him approach, feeling a swell of the heady anticipation that came from having a target within his metaphorical crosshairs. When the blond appeared at the window, he greeted, sounding muffled by the glass, “Hey, Axel.” There was still a hint of Saturday’s bashfulness to him, even now – perhaps because Axel had finally made his intentions known, and straight up asked him out. Their dynamic was shifting.

_I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to kill you._

His groin tightened slightly.

“Hey,” he answered, voice like honey, leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. “How are you feeling? Did you end up getting enough sleep?”

“Yeah.” Roxas placed his I.D. in the scoop and Axel pulled it over to his side of the window. Sheepishly, the blond said, “I’m sorry I got grouchy with you over that. I… have a lot going on at the moment. I’ve been needing a lot more sleep lately.”

Glancing over as he swiped Roxas’ identification and pressed the button for the freight elevator, he checked, “You’re not too busy to come out with me Sunday, though, right?”

Roxas laughed a little. “No. I’ll make sure I’m… fine for Sunday.”

Smiling brightly, Axel slid his I.D. back, along with three sea-salt candies. Winking at Roxas, the blond raising his brows slightly as they rolled into view, he said, “That’s okay, then.”

“Heh. Thanks. How many of these have you got back there?” Roxas asked, pocketing them for later.

“Enough to hopefully brighten your day every now and again,” Axel grinned back. Under the desk, he squeezed his knee – goddamn, he sounded moronic. This lovesick act didn’t suit him in the slightest.

Fortunately, Roxas detected the same treacly note in his tone as he had, and rolled his eyes. “How sweet,” he mocked, and with that was on his way. Axel’s smile dimmed, dropping from its fake point to a milder smirk. He appreciated that the kid wasn’t as receptive to that crap – he didn’t mind if Axel acted like an idiot, but under certain conditions, and only up to a certain point. That was good to know. It was all about learning and tailoring his responses to best attract the blond, after all. If the kid wanted him to get on his knees and bark like a freaking dog, he would – and then, naturally, shoot out his kneecaps before he died. But, he was fairly sure it wouldn’t come to such a grisly point; Roxas actually seemed like someone Axel might, under other circumstances, have got along well with, without it being contrived for a certain purpose.

That thought brought a flicker of –

\- but then it was quashed, and he readied himself to greet the next scientist on their way down from the parking lot.

.o.O.o.

The week progressed smoothly. By Wednesday, Axel had settled on what to do with Roxas for their date – where they’d eat, what they’d wear, and where they’d go. Their nocturnal sleeping habits gave him the entire night to spend with the blond, which he intended to make good use of.

When Roxas tried pressing him for information, he affected a mysterious air, refusing to divulge the details – simply telling him to dress sexy, and that he would take care of the rest. Roxas inevitably rolled his eyes a little, a familiar gesture by now, muttering something smart-alecky professing a deep anxiety, and left it at that. It was all quite laughably easy. He obviously trusted Axel to make decent decisions; another coup. To think, it hadn’t been that many days ago that the kid had been giving him the almighty cold-shoulder, driving Axel to think desperate thoughts of how else to keep tabs on him.

In the end though, he was being a perfectly willing little lamb.

The only thing that bothered Axel throughout all this swimming success was the idea that he was not the only wolf on the prowl. Roxas’ other stalkers continued to crowd his thoughts, keeping him in scowling contemplation. He had taken to passing by the blond’s house each morning, after he had left work, scanning the front of the property for any signs that there might have been a struggle. He wished he had Roxas’ cell phone number, which he had yet to be given, so that he could text the kid each day to make sure he was still all right… although the fact that he didn’t was most likely actually a boon, since _he_ would then take the position of predominant stalker in Roxas’ mind.

It was just… it was frustrating. He felt so _helpless._ The possibility that there were others out there who might be the ones to snuff out Roxas’ light, when it was _Axel_ putting in all the hard damn work, was infuriating. But all he could do, night after night, was just drive past and hope that Roxas’ front door wasn’t ajar. Each evening when the blond showed up for work, Axel breathed a silent sigh of relief. This was killing him, for Christ’s sake. He was too young for these sorts of wrinkles.

What he needed was to just – figure out what these guys wanted. If he knew that much, he could at least plan a strategy to deal with them; hell, he didn’t even actually knowif they _were_ contracted to Roxas, like he was. All he had was the understanding that they behaved aggressively towards the kid, and had his house staked out – all without actually making the move towards an ultimate kill. Even when he had encountered them in the parking lot, he hadn’t really got a deadly vibe off of them – rather than that, they’d seemed like thugs to him. If it weren’t for the fact that they had Roxas’ house under surveillance, Axel wouldn’t have been so goddamn _concerned._

And then, as he was driving by on Friday morning, in the gloom an hour or so before sunrise, he actually spotted one of them. It surprised him so badly he drove straight past the guy. It wasn’t like their stalking schedules hadn’t matched up in the past – that was how he knew they were doing this, after all – but considering the infrequency with which they did cross paths, he generally went out expecting to notsee them. Plus, the guy was wearing all black – if it hadn’t been for the distinctive colour of his hair in the darkness, Axel might not have noticed him at all. No wonder he hadn’t realised they were around when he’d been taking all his photos – this one was slinking skilfully through the shadows, head slightly lowered, wholly unremarkable and looking for all the world like he had no interest whatsoever in any of the houses he was walking by. Axel had had no _reason_ to notice any of them. They were entirely too good at blending in to the surroundings.

He turned at the next intersection, thinking rapidly, weighing up his options. He then switched off his headlights and accelerated, going around the block, slowing down as he passed Roxas’ house again. The guy had been further up the road when Axel had driven by the first time; with a couple of extra minutes, he had almost disappeared. The redhead scanned the street intently as he crept along, finally spying the guy a good hundred feet away, turning a corner. He slowed further still, letting the car pull itself along, the engine practically silent.

Quietly, patiently, infinitely slowly, Axel tailed the guy. His thin frame and the flutter of his long hair from time to time told him that it was the same one he had fought off Roxas in the parking lot. He seemed to know the area well; he stuck firmly to the tree-line where possible, and sped up to cross the open areas, his stride becoming more purposeful the further he got from Roxas’ bungalow. If only Axel had arrived a little earlier, he might have been able to observe the guy checking Roxas’ place out – might have gained at least a _clue_ as to what his interest was. Or, on the other hand, maybe walking was all these dudes did; maybe they just made the rounds, for… _whatever_ reason, and then reported back somewhere.

Axel’s hope was that it was the latter, because wherever this guy was going, he intended to follow. Nothing would clear up their involvement with Roxas faster than an armed raid on their headquarters. This was his chance to simplify things again, and he wasn’t about to let it slip through his fingers.

It seemed like things could never quite go to plan in this timeline, however; as nice as it would have been to remain unnoticed the entire, creeping way, some asshole with early-bird ambitions ruined it all. If Axel had seen the headlights coming from behind, he could have just pulled over and ducked down til the car had passed – but it swung around a corner he had just recently rolled by, giving both him and the other driver next to no time to react. With his lights off, Axel was practically invisible, to which the other guy protested with a pants-shittingly loud compression of his horn. The car swerved violently around him, tires spinning, blowing past and nearly taking his wing mirror off. Axel flinched, briefly lit up by the other car’s lights, and for a moment, twisting towards the sudden disturbance, the silver-haired guy looked straight at him.

He saw Axel.

Axel saw him.

They recognised one another, and both understood that the other had noticed. Then, as the driver that destroyed Axel’s stealth raced angrily off into the distance, honking several more times, and darkness fell once again – briefly blinding the two men – they launched into action.

Axel couldn’t see a goddamn thing, but _knew_ that son-of-a-bitch was off to a sprinting start. He changed gears in an instant, the engine revving sharply. With a quick motion, he flicked on the rental car’s headlights and scaled them up to high-beam, instantly lighting up the street and the fleeing black form with the trailing silver hair. Releasing the clutch, stomping on the accelerator, Axel’s car leapt forward like a horse out of the starting gate. He crossed the distance in seconds, but his quarry was smarter than to just let himself get caught so soon; using his manoeuvrability to his advantage, the bastard leapt over someone’s fence and used their yard as a shortcut.

Expecting this, knowing the area well enough by now to be able to predict where the bastard would emerge, he continued on, the world whipping past his windows, blazingly bright ahead and inky black behind. He turned one corner, then another, and found the guy just as he was dropping over onto the sidewalk again. Seeing the man’s face contort at the sight of him, Axel grinned, a feral expression that hadn’t emerged for weeks. His heart was racing, blood pulsing, he felt fucking _alive_ for the first time in a _long_ time, and wasn’t about to let his newest target just slink away.

As the guy started sprinting ahead, Axel sped up, overtaking him and braking abruptly, exiting the car and doubling back towards him on foot. The man changed course and was now heading towards the park across the road. Axel ran after him, shoes slapping the bitumen noisily, breaths loud and excited. As they left the brightness of his idling car behind, the shadows swallowing them up, a wild laugh stuttered from his throat, piercing the cool, quiet air. The silver-haired guy was still ahead, but Axel was fresh out of the car, whereas this asshole had already been racing his ass off for several minutes and would soon doubtless start to tire.

Oh, the thrill of the _hunt –_ he had spent so long setting up the slow and steady honey trap, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be a _predator,_ to give in to the base instinct that sent a shiver through the dark part of his soul. He caught flashes of the guy through the trees, that tell-tale hair tantalising him from a short distance away. What he wouldn’t give to be able to reach out, snatch a handful of it and wrench the guy back so fast his neck cracked. His fingers itched for that sensation, his mouth curling into a vicious grin at the mere imagining. He put on an extra burst of speed, pumping all his strength into it, long legs gaining beginning to gain ground.

Sensing him closing the gap, with his stamina, as predicted, beginning to flag, the guy changed tactics, heading for the nearby playground. It was a hulking sprawl of various pieces of equipment, through which Axel’s quarry evidently felt he could dodge and weave to slow his pursuer down.

He hit the sand ahead of Axel with a spray of white, Axel’s shoes sinking in several steps later, each stride now trickier, harder won. It took only a moment to adjust, but the guy had used this tiny pause to his advantage, pulling ahead, hauling his thin frame up a ladder into the main play structure, two tree-house type arrangements connected by a rope bridge.

Axel veered, heading straight for the bridge, grabbing a handful of rope and lunging up, ready to cut the guy off before he crossed – only to get, as he turned to face him, two feet square in the gut. The silver-haired man had got there just that bit quicker, and, gripping the ropes, had swung his whole body forward into the kick. Axel fell back hard, briefly tangled in the rope bridge before rolling down and slamming to the ground. The sand cushioned him, but the landing, along with the kick itself, left him stunned.

He inhaled sand and started coughing, before curling up and vomiting, grasping his midsection. The longer his body had to register what had happened, the more intense the pain became, until he started to wonder if he’d broken a rib.

As he lay there, gasping and choking, he became aware of a pair of legs coming to stand beside him. He lifted his head, glaring ferociously up at what _had_ been his quarry. The slender, long-haired man smirked down at him, breathing hard, eyes cold. “I believe you and I need to have a little chat,” he panted, his voice soft and thin.

“I agree,” Axel rasped, and, in the foetal position, reached under the leg of his jeans, unclipping the blade he kept for just such an occasion. Before the guy could notice he was up to something, Axel punched the knife straight through his calf. As his _reinstated_ quarry howled, the redhead reached up, planning to swing him down to his level and climb on top for some good, old-fashioned, one-on-one face-cutting. Before he could complete the motion beyond grasping hold of his victim’s clothing, the distant wail of a police siren cut through the night. Both men froze, heads snapping towards the noise. Axel’s hastily abandoned car was still distantly visible, blazing headlights a pinprick of illumination in the dark, very likely, along with his earlier creative driving, the cause for somebody having called 911.

Both men hissed, _“Shit!”_

Before he could act, Axel’s quarry reared back and kicked him off. Without any further attempt at retribution, he hobbled quickly away with the knife handle still sticking out of his leg. Axel lumbered clumsily to his feet, clutching his middle, and wavered, torn between pursuing the guy while he was injured and slow, and the need to get back to his car and get the fuck out of here before the cops showed up.

Releasing a growl, well aware that it was the second option he had no choice but to go with, he yelled hoarsely, _“Stay the fuck away from Roxas!”_

He could only hope that the asshole had heard him. Swinging around, he swallowed his pain and hurried out of the sand, jogging as quickly as he could back across the park. He reached his car with the cops still a couple of blocks away, the engine idling and ready to go. He slid in through the open door and turned down the lights, shifting gears and getting going. He drove quickly at first, away from the sirens, until he was a couple of streets away, then slowed to the speed limit. He took the shortest route to get as far away as possible, before the police could start combing the area looking for a description of his rental.

Wheezing slightly, expression tense, Axel wiped away the layer of sweat that had gathered on his brow and headed for his basement apartment, hoping like hell he wasn’t sporting any broken bones.

.o.O.o.

_“Sssshhhhit.”_

Frozen peas wrapped in a dishcloth made a passable cold compress, but was not the slightest bit fun. Axel tilted his head back and let out a dry laugh, as daylight slowly filled his apartment. That silver-haired prick had just made a new friend; Axel was going to make sure they had another fantastic playdate _real_ soon.

Upon peeling back his shirt when he got home, he’d found his solar plexus turning an interesting array of deep blues and purples. Sitting now on the sofa, legs sprawled wide with his hands holding the compress against his bare flesh, he closed his eyes and focused on whether or not anything felt worse than bruised. He pressed down experimentally here and there, but although he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to be taking any unnecessarily deep breaths over the next couple of days, the longer that he tested it the more sure he became that nothing was properly damaged. The bruising probably went into the bone, but that was by far more manageable than the alternative. Had his ribs been cracked or fractured, he would have had no choice but to call off the date with Roxas, which he really didn’t want to have to do. If it was just about schoolgirl crushes and sex, he’d probably have cancelled regardless, because this was going to sting for a few days; but in the name of progress, and the contract, he couldn’t afford to let his relationship with the kid to start cooling off for even a moment. 

He sighed carefully, slowly opening his eyes to gaze at the damp-spotted ceiling. The things he did for this kid… Hell, he didn’t think he’d have gone this far for a _real_ lover, never mind some blond from the past who had a timer ticking over his fluffy head. And yet – here he was, his stomach kicked to shit, down his lucky knife, all for the sake of this one person. He laughed again, short and mirthless this time. He was saving the kid to kill the kid. It wasn’t a position he usually found himself in. The killing part, sure – but actually protecting someone? Actually taking steps to prevent another human being from getting hurt?

It was like the thing with Pence all over again; he just happened to be there, and had happened to act. He was no paragon for the lowly underdogs – he was the wolf who dragged their inferior carcasses home. He was the wild animal to these domesticated puppies, and wouldn’t hesitate to rip them to shreds. Yet, here he was, to all intents and purposes collared and leashed.

This situation was _strange_ to him. When he’d told that guy to leave Roxas alone, he’d really _felt_ it. As much as he’d enjoyed the chase, the whole reason he’d done it in the first place was because he’d thought he could finally gain some answers, and make it so that Roxas would be safe.

It was a job – just a job – but more and more frequently, it was turning into the sort of job where he found himself flying blind. This was not a job like any other, and the bruises on his stomach were the evidence that it was starting to take its toll. He almost wished he could just gut Roxas and get it over with, eschew all this crap at long last and return to basics – simple and clean.

But that was, of course, impossible. Worse, it would wasteful. And so, in this fashion, he would have to continue: a hunter become a guardian; an assassin who would attack others to keep his target safe from harm.

This was new. It was bullshit.

And he had a whole, anxious day to get through before he could get to work and make sure Roxas was still okay.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

“You okay? You seem kind of… stiff.”

Roxas’ voice echoed slightly in the cavernous underground parking lot. Friday’s workday, such as it was, had come to an end, with the blond the last one out of the lab, trailing the others by an extra hour. It was the first time that Axel had wished he would hurry it up a little; his middle had been throbbing like a bitch all night.

As he’d accompanied Roxas to his car, having changed before the blond had left the lab to eliminate any risk that he might see the bruises – a strip show like last weekend’s being, for the moment, the furthest thing from Axel’s mind – he had been holding himself carefully. Like the kid observed, he was stiff, unconsciously hunching into his injury. It wasn’t anywhere near the worst injury he’d ever sustained, but neither was it particularly exciting to experience. The sharp pounding of it, along with every brush of his shirt scratching the tender flesh, left him weary.

With Roxas’ blue-eyed gaze upon him, he pushed out a grin. “What, this? Nah, it’s nothing.” He flipped a careless hand. “I was moving some boxes and pulled a muscle in my back. It’ll pass.”

“Ouch,” Roxas offered. “What the hell was in the boxes?”

Axel grasped for an answer. “Um – bricks,” he blankly said. When Roxas lifted an eyebrow, he went on, “Yeah, I was hauling boxes of bricks for my landlord. He’s, uh… renovating.” Why was it that this guy always felt the need to ask follow-up questions? Couldn’t he just be like anyone else and care more about himself? “I guess I didn’t lift with my legs enough or something,” he mumbled.

Roxas nodded sagely. “Oh, yeah, you’ve gotta do that. You’ll mess up your spine, otherwise.”

“Said the researcher, who lifts whole pads of paper _every day,”_ Axel sardonically teased, earning a punch to the arm that he was just… infinitely glad the kid hadn’t directed to his stomach.

“For your information, I spent a few summers on a construction site,” Roxas replied, with a superior sniff. “My best friend’s uncle owns a company, and we did all _sorts_ of lifting, so I _know_ how to lift bricks – better than you, at least.”

“Ha!” Axel gave a rueful laugh, then shot the kid a sidelong look. “Colour me surprised; and here I thought you were just some brainiac. But you’ve got your hands dirty, huh?”

Roxas gave a mischievous smirk, twisting and walking backwards, his hands clasped behind his back. “Oh, I’m full of surprises. A walking wonder factory, in fact.”

“That,” Axel replied, drily, “I believe.”

They reached Roxas’ car, the blond reaching into his pocket for his keys, but not yet pulling them out. Instead, he leaned against the door, peering into Axel’s face, and asked, “So, really – where are we going on Sunday?”

Axel wagged a finger, chiding, “Ah-ah-ah – it’s a _secret.”_

“Because…?”

“Because secrets are fun?” Axel suggested. Roxas sighed and rolled his eyes.

“O- _kay,_ if that’s your kink then that’s you’re kink – but I really would kind of like to know. For example, what does ‘dress sexy’ even _mean?”_

Axel drew a breath, looking up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression, pressing a hand against the car beside the blond. “Well, under normal circumstances, I’d say,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, breathing, “ ‘come as you _are,_ baby’.”

“Lame,” Roxas informed him, but didn’t try to ease away, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Agreed,” Axel said, straightening again and giving him a once-over, shaking his head slowly. “But yeah, jeeze, you’re such a train wreck. I mean, sexy? This?” He tugged a lock of blond, finding it soft to the touch. “I bet you don’t even know how. I bet, when I come to get you on Sunday night, you’ll just be wearing like… a potato sack. That’s how much you know sexy.” He rested his face on his knuckles, while Roxas smiled with slitted eyes. “I mean, unless you feel like proving me wrong,” he added angelically.

Roxas snorted, glancing off to the side. “All right, Axel. You can keep your goddamned secrets. I’ll just do my best, I guess.”

“And I promise to let you into my car no matter the result, even if you _are_ wearing a potato sack.” Axel placed a hand upon his heart, all earnestness and generosity, before a glint entered his eyes as he gave the kid a once-over. “…Although, knowing you, I bet you’d pull the look off.”

“Oh, I would, would I?” Roxas laughed. “I suppose I’ll – take that compliment?”

“Well, seeing how often you rock a hoodie,” Axel said, plucking at the hem of Roxas’ baggy sweater, “how can I possibly question your hotness?”

Roxas coughed a little, looking away, seeming kind of embarrassed, but… at the same time pleased. Axel’s eyes narrowed, his smile briefly sharpening.

“Uh, well, on that note, I guess I’ll just…” The blond made a feeble sort of gesture, Axel discerning that it meant he needed to step away so he could get into his car. Glancing up at Axel as he was sitting, Roxas said, his voice a little soft, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Axel.”

“And I,” Axel said, leaning down to speak into the gap before the door shut, “can’t wait to see you on Sunday.”

The door closed, Roxas looking like maybe he was blushing, lifting an elbow to prop against the windowsill to mask it. He started the car, twitched his fingers in a wave, and pulled away without looking Axel in the face.

The redhead watched him go, then limped to his own car and headed home, one day closer to conquest.

.o.O.o.

Saturday passed, the night progressing without incident, with Roxas leaving earlier alongside some of the other researchers. The look he’d tossed through the window was promisingly warm – he was looking forward to the next time they’d see each other.

And finally, it was Sunday, seven P.M. Axel was due to pick Roxas up at eight.

He stood in the bathroom of his apartment, leaning over the sink, staring hard at himself in the mirror while running through a mental checklist. He was clean, he smelled good; everything _looked_ okay. His outfit was deliberately understated: figure-hugging black jeans and a black shirt, with a white beater underneath. This way, at the end of the night, when he tried to recall what had happened, all Roxas should have memories of was the red of Axel’s hair, and the green of his eyes. These features had always been his combined curse and advantage as an assassin – they were what made him memorable. Even Reno had once grumbled that, when they were next to each other, it was Axel who got that majority of the attention, because Reno’s pale eyes couldn’t hold a candle to the venomous green of Axel’s, especially once they started to smoulder.

With Roxas, getting his eyes to smoulder wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. He had to admit, he was looking forward to the end-result of the night. He couldn’t deny his attraction to the kid – Roxas was the kind of cute with a sting in his tail that Axel had no trouble getting riled up about. Whatever else was slated for the days to come, he was going to make sure he at least enjoyed _this._

Giving his reflection a short nod of approval – he could see no immediate room for improvement – he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. They were non-drowsy, but effective enough. They would make it so that his bruises didn’t bother him, at least. When it actually came time to take his shirt off, well, he’d just attribute the sunset palette across his stomach to that whole ‘renovation’ thing and leave it at that. It wasn’t like Roxas was going to assume the real cause of the injury’s existence.

Taking the pills with a gulp of water from the faucet, Axel once again gave himself a final glance-over in the mirror, then vacated the bathroom. He grabbed his wallet and flipped it open, double-checking the presence of cash and condoms, then snatched up his keys from the kitchen counter, locked up the basement, and headed up onto the street.

He was setting off early, but wanted to make a quick pass of Roxas’ bungalow and the immediate area to make sure the silver-haired guys weren’t on the loose. What he would actually _do_ if he happened upon one of them prowling, he wasn’t sure – he had a date to get to, and didn’t much feel like showing up partially beaten from a struggle – but forewarned was forearmed, or some shit like that.

Roxas’ house was all lit up as he made the first pass, making it look, for once, actually lived in. Axel was accustomed to seeing it during the day, when the blond was asleep, or at the end of his workday when he was getting ready for bed and only had one or two lights burning. Even the porch light was on, evidently in anticipation of his arrival. It was kind of a rush, really; he usually didn’t get invited inside quite so willingly by someone he was planning to kill. Yet here Roxas was, welcoming him with open arms.

At exactly eight, he pulled into Roxas’ driveway, having ascertained that the area was clear of the silver-haired blight. He walked along the path with his hands in his pockets, hopping up the stairs to the porch and rapping on the mottled, stained glass of the front door. As he waited, he turned, giving the area a quick scan, then twisted with a smile as he heard the door rattle.

“You’re punctual,” Roxas remarked, sounding mildly surprised by this.

“Would I let you down in such a basic way?” Axel asked with a suave grin, then paused to take in the blond’s appearance. It was his first time seeing Roxas out of the ordinary, lab-appropriate garb. The kid favoured hoodies a lot, as Axel had pointed out the other night, which he supposed were good for slipping a white coat over and doing the whole research thing. Tonight, however, the shapeless hoodie was gone, replaced by a clean white shirt over a black tank top in an inverted colour scheme to Axel’s, with blue jeans sporting several belts and a Frankenstein’s monster scarring of zippers. He had silver-studded, black-and-white checked wristbands, and a leather necklace that disappeared beneath his shirt. The look was simple, and ravishingly cute.

As Roxas cocked a hip, his hands on the doorframe, with an increasingly questioning expression, Axel realised, after a moment, that he was staring. He snapped himself out of it, coughing mildly into his fist. “Hm, ah, excuse me. You look… nice,” he said, unable to keep his gaze from doing the rounds once more.

“The potato sack is at the cleaners,” the blond replied, amused by his reaction. “I had this moment of panic before realising I have other things to wear. Let’s hope it’s good enough for where you’re _taking_ me.” He took a minute to size Axel up, seeming to like, as much as Axel did, what he saw. “…Judging by what you’re wearing, I should be fine. If you’d turned up in a suit or something, I really _might_ have had to panic.”

Axel snorted, spreading his arms wide. “Do I look like the kind of guy who wears suits on his day off?”

A sly smirk came over the blond’s face. “Hmm… no, definitely not. I’d have probably liked you better to begin with if I thought you had an ounce of class.” As Axel blustered with mock hurt, Roxas said, “Just wait here, I’ll get my things and we can leave.”

He disappeared back into the house, leaving Axel standing on the porch. He stepped over the threshold and leaned against the doorway, alert gaze taking in everything he could of the bungalow’s visible interior. “Don’t forget your purse,” he called, seconds before Roxas reappeared with a jingle of keys.

Rolling his eyes, the blond ordered, “Get out of my house,” and as Axel backed up, grinning, Roxas followed, turning off a few lights and pausing to set the alarm system. He then pulled the door shut, locked up, and turned expectantly to the redhead. “So, _now_ do I get to find out where we’re going?”

“Dinner, first,” Axel announced. He swept an arm out and bowed with exaggerated gallantry, ushering Roxas ahead of him down the stairs.

“Uh-huh,” the kid responded, stepping down onto the path, “and where would _that_ be?”

“A magical place,” Axel promised, enigmatically. “Just wait and see.”

.o.O.o.

The night air was crisp, containing a floral hint from some night-blooming flowers gaining vibrancy as spring progressed. The city lights glowed through the darkness, creating a bright, energetic atmosphere. There was a park across the road, deep in the Archades city centre, and the streets, to Axel’s satisfaction, were suitably lively.

Roxas seemed somewhat less impressed.

“So,” he said slowly, “your idea of a ‘magical place’ – that would be a street-side burger bar?”

Its neon sign blinked haphazardly above their heads, greasy fumes and mouth-watering scents drifting out from the cramped interior of the vendor’s tiny shop.

“You laugh now,” Axel sagely started, to which Roxas replied, “Oh, I’m not laughing,” the redhead valiantly pressing on, “but you, sir, should feel ashamed if you’ve lived here all this time and never tried one of this guy’s burgers.”

‘This guy’ did happen to be an overly hairy, bear-like man with a layer of grease permanently pasted to his visible flesh, with a shop that was a single room facing the street, but the online reviews had been stellar. Just because Axel hadn’t been here before either did nothing to perturb his certainty in the choice of venue; the fact that the few sidewalk tables were packed with people eating was a point in the burger bar’s favour. 

“You… are such a cheap date,” Roxas dubiously said.

Axel arched an eyebrow. “Hey – did I promise you fancy restaurants, or did I promise you a good time?”

“I don’t recall being promised anything,” the kid pointed out.

Without missing a beat, Axel replied, “Then allow me to begin _now.”_ He stepped up to the counter and confidently requested, “Two with the lot, my good man.” He turned to Roxas. “I _promise_ you are going to be blown away by this.” Please, God, let the online reviews be true.

The vendor moved as if he’d exited the womb slinging burgers for a living. The end results were wrapped in grease-proof paper and deposited on the counter in paper bags, Axel waving off Roxas’ attempt to bring out his wallet and paying for both with an air of mocking gentility. “No – please – allow me.”

He handed Roxas his burger, took one look at the crowded tables, and gestured for the blond to follow him. “Let’s hit the park.”

They crossed the road, Roxas’ hands shifting around his burger, the crinkle of paper sounding out. “God, I hope I don’t drip this on my shirt.”

“Is it really so hard to _not_ eat over your chest?” Axel asked. “I mean, maybe if I was eating _off_ your chest things might get dirty…” He broke off for a moment to appreciate that mental image, which resonated with the word _dirty._ Roxas, sensing as much, reached out and smacked his chest. Axel’s eyes bulged slightly, and he grunted, while the blond snorted. The kid figured it was a comical display, but holy shit, that had been _right_ above his bruises. He forced a grin and resisted the urge to clutch the area. “My mistake,” he rasped.

While Axel took some deep breaths, the pair made their way to a nearby park bench, Roxas stepping onto the seat and sitting on the edge of the table. He leaned his elbows on his knees, evidently planning to eat between them, taking no chances on his white shirt with the admittedly oily burger. Axel took his place beside him, their knees almost, but not quite, touching. In silence, they unwrapped their burgers and each took an experimental bite. There was a beat, then Roxas, eyes widening, said, “Holy shit, this is _awesome.”_

“Never doubt me again,” Axel advised. “I am wisdom incarnate.” It _was_ pretty damn good – he was pleased with his detective skills in tracking down the place. Cheap he might be, but _calculatedly_ so. A regular old dinner date in a restaurant had nothing on epic burgers in the park.

Taking another bite, Roxas glanced around a little, then directed his eyes upward and let out a small sigh. “Man. It’s been a while since I got to just look at the stars like this.” Axel followed his gaze. There weren’t that many of them, what with the brightness of the city, but what few that were visible were perfect little sky-studding gems. He had to admit, it had been a while for him, too. When one worked through the night – whatever his job might be – one sort of… stopped looking up.

“It’s nice, huh?” he commented, eyes moving from one end of the sky to the other. “They’re easy to forget about, but they’re always right there, whether we’re noticing them or not.”

When he lowered his gaze, he found Roxas looking at him, a softer expression on his face than Axel was accustomed to seeing. “You know, you’re not what I expected,” the blond mildly told him. “After how you were at first with Pence, I kind of figured…” He trailed off, then shrugged. “Well, you’re different than I assumed, anyway. There’s more to you than what you, I don’t know, project.”

“…Yeah?” Axel had nothing intelligent to respond to that with. There was far more to him than Roxas realised, and thinking about that right now wasn’t likely to aid the mood. Instead, he suggested, “Let’s play a game.” As Roxas’ expression changed, developing a look of curiosity, Axel felt the strange pressure that had briefly weighed on him dissipate. “Truth or truth. We ask each other questions – but whatever you ask, you then have to answer as well, so choose _wisely.”_

Roxas thought for a second, then nodded. “Okay. Sounds… informative. You go first.”

For Axel, this was a win-win situation. Not only was it good ice-breaker material for getting to know one another, but he could finally, casually, find out some of the things that his woeful data had failed to provide. “Okay. We’ll start off easy. Cat person or dog person?”

Roxas laughed a little, a relaxed, happy sound. “Really? Okay, cats. You?”

“Cats, all the way.”

“Oh, yeah? You surprise me, you seem more like a dog guy.”

Axel rolled his shoulders and scrunched his face. _“Eh._ I might not look it, but I have standards for what I allow to slobber over my crotch.”

Roxas laughed again, and shook his head. “So, my turn? All right – uh, what do your parents do?”

Axel thought about them, somewhere out there right now, with a five-year-old him clinging to his mother’s skirts. “Home-maker and army sergeant. And _not_ in the roles you’d expect. You?”

“Pharmacists.”

“What, both?” Axel tilted his head. “I guess that’s where you must get your scientific prowess.”

“Maybe. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you grew up?”

Roxas took a bite of burger, considering as he chewed. “A rockstar astronaut vampire-killer.” As Axel crowed with laughter, he demanded, “What about you?”

“A _doctor._ Jesus Christ, _rockstar astronaut vampire-killer…”_

As he bent over, grabbing his middle, bruises jolted by helpless chuckles, Roxas asked, “So how does a guy go from wanting to heal people to knocking their heads together for a living?”

Axel calmed himself with some effort, wiping his eyes. The question itself had a slightly sobering effect, as well; answering these sorts of things honestly felt better than trying to construct lies about inconsequential things. It had been a long time since he’d thought about how he’d started off wanting to help people. And he didn’t simply ‘knock heads together’ for a living – he blasted them off shoulders. He drew a breath and cleared his throat, squinting slightly as he searched himself for the answer. “I guess I just… ended up on a different path,” he said, eventually. “Life doesn’t progress like you think it will – before you know it, you end up starting something you can’t back away from, and the ideals you had when you were a kid… kind of dissolve.”

“Hell, Axel. That was kind of deep.” Roxas seemed almost impressed, if a little bemused by the seriousness that had crept unbidden into the redhead’s tone.

Feeling a little more exposed than he had intended, Axel redirected the conversation, asking, “And you?”

Roxas raised his eyebrows. “Oh – was that my question? Okay, then. Uh, how did I end up a biophysicist?”

“I would like to point out that that’s a lot of syllables,” Axel contributed.

“Duly noted.” Roxas rolled his eyes, then shrugged. “I just got drawn in that direction. Biology was my first major interest, and that led to the more detailed side of things until I ended up in biophysics. You’re either into it, or you’re not, I guess.”

“Okay. Interesting.” Axel bobbed his head a few times, musingly. “So, when did you start working for the Research Committee?”

“Eight months ago,” the blond said. Axel quickly did the math – that was two months before the first attack on the kid. There had to be a connection there. A good place to start trying to figure the silver-haired guys out.

“It was you out of four hundred others, right?” Axel remembered.

Looking surprised, Roxas nodded. “Yeah. It was a hard fight, but I guess I had… qualities that the professor and Lucrecia appreciated more than the others.”

“Qualities?”

“So, what about you?” Roxas was pulling Axel’s trick, diverting the flow of the discussion. He made a mental note of this, and tucked the concept of _‘qualities’_ away for later review. Somehow, he doubted it was due to Roxas sleeping his way to the top. “When did you start working for that agency you mentioned?” He then hesitated, evidently recalling the last time they’d spoken about it. “Uh – that is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Ready for such inquiries this time, Axel promptly answered, “Since I was eighteen. So it’s been… what, seven years now?” His teeth clicked shut. Man – had it seriously been that long? He hadn’t really thought about it quantitatively before, what with time itself ending up pretty damn relative after a while. He blew out a steady sigh, lifting his gaze back to the night sky. “It’s all I know anymore.”

They were silent for a moment, before Roxas nudged him with an elbow. “You’ll be fine,” he offered. “At least you’ll get a good referral from them, right? And hey, you could always just keep working for the Research Committee. If Ansem trusts you, you’ve got a lifetime pass.”

The kid still thought Axel was cut up about his story about the agency closing down. He was trying to be nice, trying to reassure him. He really had… no idea what was in store for him, did he? Here he sat, calm and contented, comforting his future killer. It was… a strange sensation. “…Yeah,” Axel quietly said. “No reason why not.”

They each took a bite of burger, a lull falling between them as they chewed. Their game seemed to have stalled. A slight awkwardness attempted to blossom in the gap left behind, very much the bane of a successful date. It was Axel who was the first to swallow, clearing his throat and speaking to fill the empty space: “So… how’d you lose your virginity?”

Roxas choked on the last of his mouthful, swallowing hard and then gasping, “Oh, no you don’t – it’s _my_ turn. And I am _not_ asking that.”

“If you don’t, I will,” the redhead wickedly told him. “It’s my turn next, after all.”

Roxas’ eyes narrowed, the two men staring each other down. He took another bite, chewing slowly, then gradually began to smile. “…Okay. _Axel._ What is the entire history of the planet, from first known historical accounts to present day, nation by nation, taking the migratory patterns of early humans into account?”

Axel gaped, then argued, “No _way,_ that’s against the rules!”

“The rules, such as they are, merely state that what _one_ party asks, the other has to answer, _and then vice-versa.”_ Roxas’ sense of triumph was swelling with every strangled sound out of Axel’s mouth.

“But – then that would mean that _you_ had to recite it, too!”

“And if we did _that,_ we’d be here all night,” Roxas sighed, affecting a sorrowful demeanour, “and that would be _such_ a lame date I don’t think I’d even _look_ at you again.” He flashed a toothy, victorious grin Axel’s way. “And that would be _so_ sad.”

Axel stared for a long minute, while Roxas cockily finished another mouthful of his dinner. As the kid’s tongue came out to lick away some lingering sauce, the urge to grab him and just – _smother_ the breath out of him with a kiss was almost too much to fight. Axel’s heart was pounding. Roxas had utterly defeated him.

“You… are…”

“Yes?” Roxas asked with a batting of eyelashes, all mock innocence and superiority.

“…so… sexy.”

The blond blinked, took a good look at Axel’s dumbfounded expression, then started laughing. “Well – okay. If you say so.” He smirked a little, holding the redhead’s gaze for a lingering moment, bolder than usual. “As luck would have it, you’re not so bad yourself.”

Axel sat in a daze for a moment, then asked, “Hey – are you nearly done with your burger?”

Roxas showed him that he was down to his last few bites. “Why?”

“…Let’s move on to the next place.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The second destination for the night was a short drive from the first, Axel parking in a lot down the brightly-lit street from the venue and leading the way with a long stride. Roxas kept pace curiously, evidently wondering where they were headed, until the throb of music started to jump through the air towards them.

Axel glanced over his shoulder and watched the kid’s face light up. “A nightclub?”

He smiled, satisfied with the reaction. “You don’t seem to get enough fun in your line of work. I figured you could do with a little dancing.”

Roxas gave a sudden grin, taking hold of the fabric at Axel’s elbow as they joined the milling queue entering the place. They were through the doors in ten minutes, the music engulfing them, Axel able to feel the bass pulsing in his chest cavity. Darkness fell over them, the lights of the street left behind, replaced by a blue glow from neon tubes that traced the perimeter of the floors, the ceilings, the tables, and the bar.

The club was surprisingly crowded, putting to rest his fears that Sunday would be a dead sort of night, and ensuring that Roxas stuck close as they wended their way through the myriad people. They found themselves, once past the coat check, at the top of a set of stairs leading down to the dance floor. The bar was off to the right, with tall tables scattered throughout the top floor of the complex. Axel turned to Roxas, mimed drinking, and called through the music, _“You want something?”_

It was a good thing they’d had some conversation before they got here, because there wasn’t going to be a whole heap in this environment. However, one could communicate with far more than mere _words,_ and Axel intended to communicate a _shitload_ tonight. As Roxas eagerly nodded, he gave the kid a wink and slid a hand around into the small of his back – all in the interests of keeping together as they moved through the crowd, naturally. He could feel the warmth of the blond through his shirt, a fact which sent tingles through the fingers in contact with him. Axel swallowed a little, the energy and excitement of the club starting to infect him, just as it seemed to be doing to Roxas.

He glanced down and saw the kid’s eyes gleaming, partly from the kind of lighting there was, but also partly out of some sense of glee. Jesus, he really _did_ need some fun – he can’t have been out dancing for months if this was his reaction. It appeared that Axel’s choices were even more perfect than he’d first thought. Really, coming here had just been an excuse to be able to get physically close to Roxas and start the process of seduction, but the happiness on the kid’s face actually made him feel a little pleased with himself. He had chosen _well._ Roxas definitely wasn’t going to doubt him again the next time he tried being mysterious about where they were going – and the thought of them going out again was kind of a rush. For Axel, too, this was turning out to be… fun. It kind of had been from the moment he’d picked Roxas up.

Leading with a shoulder, Axel managed to push through the clubbers, holding Roxas virtually against him to prevent them from getting separated as the traffic grew dense around the bar. It took some jostling, but he eventually got to the counter, glancing questioningly back at the blond, who shrugged. Axel felt the motion against his arm, and felt another little thrill through his fingertips.

Gaining that permission, he attracted the barkeep’s attention and ordered for them both, the resulting drinks that slid across containing a faint blue glow like the lights. He passed one to Roxas, took the other in hand, and proceeded to slither back out of the human mass.

Once they were mostly free, Axel started casting about for a free table, blinking as he felt a warm breath against his ear and found Roxas suddenly talking loudly into it: “People keep staring at you!”

Axel glanced around, gave a wry smile, and hunched over the blond, responding, “What are you, blind? They’re staring at _you,_ kid. They can’t keep their eyes off you.” The unspoken intimation here, which made Roxas begin to flush in the way that he did when Axel managed to catch him off guard, was that _neither could he._

The kid gave a nervous smile and a laugh, shaking his head as if to dispel the notion, but it was true that they were probably both attracting a fair amount of stares. The ones directed his way he could handle, all well and good, but now that he was aware of it, he could see a decent chunk of the populace, both male and female, checking Roxas out, which was far less okay. He was going to have to guard the kid closely – having him snatched away was _not_ part of the evening’s plans.

He guided Roxas to the opposite end of the club, where there were, at least, _fewer_ people, managing to secure a table just as a group left to descend onto the dance floor. Leaning his elbows onto it, bending close enough to Roxas to block out most of his field of vision of any potential suitors, and also so that they wouldn’t have to resort to a screaming match to be heard, he asked, voice raised but within normal parameters, “So how long has it been since you did something like this?”

Roxas toyed with his glass, then ran a sheepish hand through his hair. Axel couldn’t help but follow the motion with his eyes. “Um, probably a little _too_ long. Like – a year, maybe?” He gave a small, crooked grin, shrugging his shoulders a little. “I’ve been… _really_ involved in my work and studies.”

Axel reached over and tugged a spike of blond, which was quickly becoming a somewhat irresistible compulsion. “Then it’s a good thing I came along when I did,” he replied with a cocky grin. “Much longer without some fun and you might have shrivelled up into a husk.”

Roxas chuckled, sipping at his drink. “My best friend, Hayner, keeps warning me of that.”

“Hayner, huh?” He had to quash a nasty little impulse to suddenly start trash-talking this _best friend._ If Axel so recalled, this was the same best friend Roxas had done summer jobs in construction with, so it would seem they’d been together for a while. Best friends like that could cause issues – they could be protective, notice things that someone else might not ordinarily consider, and, moreover, could prove to be tricky if there was more than just _friendship_ lurkingbehind their affections. “You, uh, known this guy long? He sure seems to know what’s good for you,” he casually observed.

A look of amusement spread over Roxas’ features. He eyed Axel, saying, “We’ve been best friends since high school. Him, me, Pence, and a girl called Olette. We’ve been… inseparable, I guess you could say.” Axel frowned without thinking, the blond’s amusement growing. “Of course,” he went on, “Olette and Hayner have been going out since about tenth grade, so there was some risk of things getting weird, but they never have.” As Axel’s head perked up a little, Roxas began to laugh. “You are so _transparent,”_ he giggled. “Jesus, Axel, would I be out with you if I was involved in any way with Hayner? Or anyone else, for that matter?”

Taken aback, unaware that his expressions had been so unguarded, Axel said, “Wha- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked away, taking a quick sip from his eerily blue drink.

Roxas gave a dry, “Uh-huh.” He leaned in a bit, resting his face against his hand, levelling a smile Axel’s way. “Let me put it this way: I’d no sooner shack up with Hayner than I would with Pence.” He reached across and playfully flicked one of the fingers that Axel had wrapped around his glass. “And there’s been no one _else_ to catch my eye, for that matter…”

Arching an eyebrow, Axel gave a small grin, easing in towards him, regaining some swagger. “…You mean until _I_ came along, right?”

With a smirk, Roxas gave a deliberately non-committal shrug. “I don’t know.”

Axel’s grin grew. “Well, I _do.”_

Roxas couldn’t help but echo his smile, hiding it a moment later behind his glass. Axel’s confidence soared. This was going ridiculously well. He could easily imagine leading Roxas down the path of seduction tonight. The kid wasn’t putting up an ounce of fight; this was positively enjoyable.

“Hey,” he said, straightening from the table, “finish up your drink and let’s dance.” He tilted his head back and gulped down the rest of his own in two long swallows. It left an enjoyable burn down the length of his throat, Axel letting out a gusty, satisfied sigh and shaking his head, feeling himself starting to loosen up in the darkened, thunderous environment. He looked over in time to see Roxas chugging the last of his drink, the blond licking his lips and setting the glass down with barely a trickle in the bottom. Grinning broadly, the kid said, “I’m ready when you are.”

With a flash of excitement, Axel grabbed Roxas’ hand, leading the way from the table over to the stairs and down onto the dance floor. As the music consumed them, Axel felt his heart rate increase, thumping in time with the heavy beat, Roxas squeezing his hand tightly as they weaved their way into an open space between bodies. Giving the surrounding dancers only a perfunctory glance, Axel settled his attention on the blond, edging close, aligning their bodies so they were almost touching, a unit that no one else could cut into.

Then, with the sweat and energy of the club filling him up, Axel started to dance. Despite the quick tempo of the music, he moved deliberately slowly, his body undulating like mercury, every movement fluid and lithe, leading with his hips. While around them people were jumping and flailing about, Axel moved in stark contrast to the wildness, setting himself apart from the crowd, Roxas, all of a sudden, incapable of looking away. While the kid had looked ready at first to start burning some energy, he was instead drawn into Axel’s pace, unable to dance faster without separating himself from the redhead.

All too soon, they were like the eye of the storm, the only two slow-moving dancers in the club. The excitement that had shone from Roxas’ face changed, calming into something cooler – or, maybe, judging by the occasional, glowing looks he darted up into the redhead’s burning green eyes, it had become abruptly hotter. What had started off as fun and games was shifting, becoming… sensuous. Axel didn’t touch him, didn’t try to make a move or hold him closer, simply letting the heat of their bodies mingle in the gap between them. Even as Roxas started to shift nearer, even when the other dancers bumped them together, Axel maintained a distance between them, until they were barely a finger’s width apart.

While Roxas had shown an interest in their surroundings when they’d first arrived, Axel felt like he’d managed to block out the entire rest of the world for the blond – and God only knew the same had happened for him. Whatever else was occurring around them, whatever new song came washing across the floor, they continued to move to their own internal rhythm, their eyes sometimes locking, other times travelling to admire various points of the other’s physique. Axel was entranced by the way Roxas moved his body; it lacked the athletic grace that he himself exhibited, not to mention that the kid could boast little of Axel’s skill, the redhead having been trained in various forms of dance for those times when infiltrating large events was necessary for a hit… Nonetheless, there was something about watching the blond that lit a fire in his belly, the flames of which unfurled through his limbs, licking at his extremities, sending a shiver up his spine.

Roxas had his head tilted back a little so he could look up into Axel’s face, a glaze to his eyes that told the man that his mind had all but checked out – he had become all about the flesh, and the music. The redhead’s breaths were swift and shallow, whether through excitement or the amount of time they’d been dancing, he couldn’t quite tell. Keeping his thoughts on track was a difficult endeavour, one which he had to struggle to maintain, not wanting to lose himself and forget what he was here for. The temptation to stay like this until the music shut off, and the club emptied out, leaving them the only two people still awake in all the city, was nearly overwhelming.

And then, Roxas kissed him.

Axel’s mind ground to a halt. His movements faltered; he all but froze in place. His hands, which he had been keeping so carefully to himself, to build the desire in Roxas to be touched – all of this had been to make the kid crazy for him, so that when he went in for the kill, reception would be at an all-time high – fumbled through the air, not knowing where to go. Roxas slung an arm around his neck and tugged him down closer, his tongue flicking out to pass over Axel’s lips even as he continued to dance.

Noticing, after a moment, the redhead’s sudden woodenness, Roxas pulled away, his grip easing, and looked up uncertainly into Axel’s stricken features. “…What’s wrong?” he asked, looking concerned, then alarmed. He blinked, started to draw back, looking ready to become embarrassed – more than that, humiliated, as if he had misread the situation and made a fool of himself – when the curious blockage in Axel broke. He surged against Roxas, grabbing his wrists before he could get away and seizing his mouth in another longer, deeper kiss, one that left the pair of them breathless.

They separated with flushed cheeks, eyes glassy. Panting lightly, Axel urged hoarsely, “Keep dancing.”

Slowly, Roxas complied. Axel’s arms wound around him, the blond, after the briefest of hesitations, doing the same. The fumble was quickly forgotten, and now, as they danced, everything became about touching: fingers subtly exploring, hips swaying together, kisses exchanged that left Axel’s head spinning.

Eventually – he had no idea how much time had passed, he had, against all intentions, completely lost himself in the moment – Axel was brought back to reality when Roxas said into his ear, “I need a drink. I’m thirsty.”

Reluctant to stop, but aware that he, too, was feeling somewhat parched – feeling patches of sweat on his shirt, from their clinging and the heat of the club – Axel unsteadily nodded and extricated himself from the blond.

Leaving the dance floor was like leaving a haze of fog. The air upstairs felt clearer, cooler, Axel becoming aware of his hand clasped tightly around Roxas’. He swallowed and hesitated, but left it where it was, once again taking point as they made their way through the club-goers and back to the bar. By the time they had got new drinks and found another table, he finally felt his head starting to clear, feeling a little like he’d been brained with a two-by-four. It wasn’t like he hadn’t planned on them becoming intimate – the evening sort of hinged on that idea – but, uh, he had rather thought that it would be _him_ leading the charge. Roxas’ bold advance had caught him unawares. He was kind of… reeling. The kid was always making this coy show of being just out of reach, but then… then…

His gaze swung over as Roxas released a noisy sigh, wiping his face of its sweaty sheen. Axel realised, with a jolt, that they were _still_ holding hands. He blinked and released the blond, who glanced over, smiled, and settled – extremely close to him, elbow on the table, chest pressing lightly against Axel’s arm. Speaking directly into the redhead’s ear, he said, “I wouldn’t have guessed you were such an amazing dancer. You surprise me.”

Axel laughed a little, an oddly nervous element to the sound. “Yeah – good luck keeping _me_ off a dance floor. If it’s there, uh, I’m there.”

Roxas’ forehead creased slightly, a flicker of his earlier uncertainty coming back. “Hey – are you okay? Um… am _I?”_ Axel’s chest seemed to churn, his mouth twisting at the hint of doubt he could hear in Roxas’ second-guessing. He turned towards him, the blond going on, “I mean, I hope you don’t think I usually just–”

He was silenced by a kiss, Axel’s hands coming up to cup his face. He told himself he was keeping the kid from losing his nerve, told himself he’d been handed a blessing in Roxas’ eagerness and couldn’t let it cool off now that it had heated to such a degree, he told himself…

He couldn’t remember anymore.

Time again dissolved, the fog he had thought to be native to the dance floor reaching them up on the bar floor, wrapping around them, muffling whatever was in his head to a dull, incomprehensible garble. Every now and again they paused to take a mouthful of alcohol, then were back to kissing, tongues rolling, Roxas’ hands in his hair, his own somewhere, anywhere, he wasn’t too sure anymore. That he was anything but lips and a pair of gradually tightening jeans was news to him.

Then he felt a spark go through his body, followed by the faintest of shudders, and realised he had just twitched his hips against Roxas, their cocks bumping. A groan from the blond told him the sensation had been mutual. Roxas moved back to his ear, a quiet urgency in him as he said, “Why don’t we go back to my place?”

Focusing with effort, he felt a flash of reluctance, replying without thinking, “Buh-but, I was going to take you for sea-salt ice cream…” Wait – what the _fuck_ was he saying!? He gulped and nodded, amending, “I mean, _okay.”_

With his arm tight around Roxas’ shoulder, they left the club, the music fading as they exited onto the street, the fresh air waking him up a little from the daze he found himself in, but doing nothing to quell the burning lust he felt. Their steps were rapid, Axel unlocking the car, the space of time during which they were apart to get into opposite sides of the vehicle apparently difficult to bear, since they grabbed each other like they’d been drawn together by a magnet once they were in.

The gearstick an uncomfortable wedge between them, Axel nibbled his way along Roxas’ pulsing throat, listening to the rapturous sighs the blond gave and nearly losing it. It took ten minutes and a grand collection of wits for him to pull himself away and blindly stab the keys into the ignition. The engine roared to life, Roxas laughing giddily at the desperation on Axel’s face as he put the car in gear and reversed out of their parking bay. Perhaps the greatest challenge of the night was getting back to Roxas’ without clipping every goddamn other car on the road along the way. His concentration was an utter mess, his reactions slow and stupid, in a way that had nothing to do with the small amount of alcohol he’d imbibed. He drove with his hand on the gearstick, Roxas playing with his fingers and tracing his knuckles, apparently having as much trouble keeping to himself as Axel was, only without the restriction of the road to focus on and their fiery deaths to prevent.

Clearing his throat, mustering the first actual words spoken for a while, he said huskily, “I didn’t think you were this… into me.”

Roxas, smiling with cat-like laziness, responded, “I wouldn’t have come out with you if I wasn’t.”

Axel drew a breath, and subtly increased the car’s acceleration. Getting them back to Roxas’ bungalow in one piece was… a challenge… but he managed. He had never been so glad to see the structure of the kid’s house than he was now, swerving into the driveway, narrowly avoiding knocking the letterbox.

They made their way along the path and up the porch steps like a single, multi-limbed entity, hands untucking undershirts, fumbling with belt buckles as they reached the front door, kisses wet, hot, and constant. Roxas managed to fish out his house keys and unlocked the front door, nearly stumbling as Axel pushed his way in, dragging the blond with him. He shut the door with a well-aimed kick as Roxas fumbled with the alarm system, and then they were stripping, the kid shuffling backwards, Axel losing his shirt to the floor, reaching beneath Roxas’ and scratching his nails along his ribs. Evidently ticklish, Roxas twisted sharply, giving a bubbling laugh and breaking free from his grasp. Axel moved to grab him again, the blond jumping back, beckoning him with a teasing grin, sashaying just out of reach.

Hunter instincts flaring, fuelling his libido, Axel gave a dangerous smile and loosened his shoulders, prepared to chase Roxas down until he was able to pin and ravish him wherever he fell –

– which was when a flash of motion exploded from the kitchen doorway as Roxas passed in front of it, and the kid was tackled sideways to the floor. He disappeared through the opposite doorway, into the living room. Axel shouted, _“Roxas!”_ and darted forward, rounding the corner just in time to narrowly avoid getting stabbed in the face.

He gasped, dodging on instinct alone, his conscious mind still struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in circumstances. As he focused on the person in front of him, however, it all became blazingly clear.

The green-eyed, long-haired man holding Axel’s lucky knife greeted sibilantly, through his teeth, _“Good evening,”_ and swung again, trying his damndest to slice the nose off Axel’s face. The redhead leapt away a second time, knocking the guy back with a stiff-armed palm to the chest, searching for Roxas in the background. What he saw chilled him to the bone – the kid was on his knees, face turning red, eyes bulging, as the second silver-haired man, the large one, yanked tighter the ends of a ropy garrotte. Roxas was fighting to loosen it, clawing alternately at the rope and the man’s hands, but he obviously couldn’t get a hold on either. He was being choked to death right in front of Axel’s eyes.

All the confusion, born of lust and drink and giddy pursuits, vanished from him in an instant. It was as if a sharp wind had blown straight through him, taking everything unnecessary with it, leaving behind only coldness, and anger.

One single goal resonated within Axel now: _save Roxas._

The world seemed to slow. Priorities shifted, Axel’s balance repositioning; his hands rose, his knees bending. He drew a deep, careful breath – and as the knife came for him a third time, he slid into action. He blocked the swinging blade, grabbed the man’s forearm, yanked him a step forward and, as the guy stumbled, Axel lifted a knee and drove his heel into the place he had, those few nights ago, stabbed his leg.

With the long-haired one now buckling without a sound, Axel stepped past him to where Roxas’ face was a bright, shining red, his mouth agape as he was strangled. He held nothing back: with the large attacker only now realising that his companion was down, so swiftly had Axel moved, he had no time to try and defend himself. His hands tight around the ends of the garrotte, he groaned as Axel snapped his fists into his face with a quick one-two motion. Blood erupted from what was undoubtedly a broken nose. Bolstering the strength of his right arm by slipping his knuckles into his left palm, Axel then rammed an elbow into the man’s throat. With a gagging noise, the guy finally released the rope, staggering back.

He heard Roxas gasp, a terrible sound, and, if anything, Axel’s anger intensified. A desk stood nearby against the wall, Axel snatching up the chair that sat before it and swinging it high, readying to step forward and smash the brains right out of the beefy guy’s skull.

His lucky knife punching through his back cut such aspirations short, however.

He stopped abruptly, swayed, then swung around and slammed the chair into the long-haired man instead, catching his shoulder hard enough to numb the guy’s entire arm. The man howled and retreated, leaving the knife inside Axel.

Clutching his shoulder, Axel’s attacker snapped, _“Loz!_ Let’s go!”

Apparently not needing to be told twice, the big guy barrelled past Axel before he could get another good swing going, the pair hardly glancing back as they fled from the room and through the back of the house. The thunder of their footsteps became the slamming of a door, before silence fell, broken only by the gasping breaths of Axel and Roxas.

Axel had staggered after them as far as  the doorway, but, upon realising that they had escaped, became acutely aware now of two things: first, the knife in his back. Oh, sweet mother of God, this was going to be painful when the shock wore off. Second, Roxas’ breaths – coughing, unsteady breaths that wheezed in and out of his body. Axel turned and found the kid on his hands and knees, fingertips gingerly touching his throat.

“Roxas!” Axel hobbled towards him, realised he was still gripping the chair, and put it down next to the desk. “Roxas…” He wanted to kneel and check on the kid, but the knife was starting to make its presence felt. He was pretty sure that doing anything other than, uh, maybe heading to hospital was going to be a bad move. Except that he _couldn’t_ head to the hospital, because he didn’t want to leave such official records behind. He was going to need to contact the agency for an after-hours, on-the-books surgeon, while somehow explaining it away to Roxas. Shit. How had this _happened?_

The lingering anger in him began to turn itself on the blond: “I thought you had a fucking alarm system! I saw you set it! What the _hell,_ Roxas? Those motherfuckers – they were going to _kill_ you! And you’ve spent so much time trying to make me think you have things under _control?”_

Panting raggedly, Roxas darted a glance upward, eyes bloodshot, his face, now that the danger was past, white as a sheet. “…I’m sorry,” he managed to rasp.

 _“Sor-!?”_ Axel cut himself off, rubbing his hands quickly over his face. Forget it – now wasn’t the time for this conversation. Roxas had just been victim of a savage attack, and Axel was pretty sure that the trickle of warmth down his right buttock wasn’t going to lead to happy things. Twisting – _carefully –_ he reached back and felt for where the handle was. Okay; right hip, over towards the edge. The three-inch blade was embedded in his flesh, slicing through muscle and stopping at the pelvic bone. No organs there, at least. The long-haired guy had obviously thrust without aiming too hard, otherwise Axel might have had a punctured kidney. Their positions reversed, it’s what _he_ would have gone for. Just another indicator that these guys were less than professional... which helped very little at this point, since they had, despite their handicap, still nearly throttled the life right out of Roxas.

Sighing, Axel looked down at the blond, finally asking, “Are you all right?” Roxas nodded. Axel shook his head. “Bullshit you are. Get up. We’re getting out of here.” When the blond sent him a querying look, he said impatiently, “You don’t expect me to let you stay _here,_ do you? Those assholes could regroup and come back. We’re heading back to my place.”

Roxas hesitated, but, to Axel’s relief, didn’t argue. Arms visibly trembling, the kid started to slowly stand. “I’d help you up, but, uh, I’ve got a knife nearly skewering my ass,” Axel offered. Roxas’ head lifted. He staggered to his feet, grabbed hold of Axel, and checked.

“Holy shit! Axel!” He sounded hoarsely panicked, his voice a feeble whisper of its former self. His neck was already ugly beyond words with the damage from the garrotte.

Axel pushed him gently away, dismissing his alarm with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, I know, just relax – I didn’t mention it for the sympathy. I want you to get me bath towel and a belt. Can you?”

This was the point where Axel expected the blond to puff up and command him to go to the nearest hospital – but, instead, after the merest of pauses, the kid nodded, shuffling off into the house to get the requested items. Axel squinted after him. That had been… surprisingly easy.

It took a couple of minutes for Roxas to return, Axel beginning to grow uneasy as the silence in the house thickened. Just as he was about to go and look for him – at least he had a ready-to-unsheathe weapon if the situation called for it – the blond returned. He had a backpack over one shoulder, evidently the cause of the delay: he’d been packing, taking Axel seriously when he’d said they needed to get out. Good. Even with all the chaos, he still had a head on his shoulders. Axel respected that.

Placing the folded towel and belt down on a coffee table, Roxas looked up at Axel, a question in his gaze. It seemed like his throat hurt too much to talk at this point. “Okay,” the redhead said, glancing over everything, “this is good.” He drew a breath and turned his back to Roxas. “All right, I’m going to pull the knife out. When I do, I need you to press the towel hard on the wound.”

Roxas positioned himself behind him, towel at the ready. Steeling himself, Axel gripped the handle, exhaled slowly, and withdrew the blade. The towel was there a second later, the pressure effective but painful. Teeth gritting, Axel closed the knife, tucking it into his pocket, before wrapping the belt around his hips and cinching it tightly, binding the makeshift dressing firmly in place. He let out another low breath. “…Done. Thanks.” It was one hell of a temporary fix, but it would have to do for now. It wasn’t a critical wound, and he wasn’t about to bleed out, so his priority became spiriting Roxas away before someone decided that silver-haired cavalry was a good idea. There still remained that one guy that Axel hadn’t encountered, after all.

He glanced at Roxas, asked, “Do you have everything you need? Are you still okay?”

The blond nodded.

Axel tossed his head towards the doorway. “Let’s get out of here, then.” He sighed, eyeing Roxas’ throat. “Maybe once you’ve recovered a bit, you can finally tell me what the hell you know about all this.” He placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder, holding him still for a moment, until he met Axel’s gaze. “Because you _will,”_ Axel soberly promised.

Roxas closed his eyes, but again nodded.

Axel released him, and a minute later they were back on the road.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

It was like stepping out of one night, and straight into another two weeks later. The mood and events of the evening, from when Axel had first shown up at Roxas’ bungalow until now, couldn’t have been more contrasted. While before there had been excitement, heat, kisses, _lust,_ the pair of them hardly able to keep their hands to themselves… now, there was silence, gravity, the two staring ahead as the headlights cut through the night on the way to Axel’s apartment.

Axel had his window wound down partway, chilly air rushing through the gap, in an attempt to stave off some of the more dissociative impacts of the shock that was settling in. The towel strapped to his right hip grew slowly wet with blood. It came at a slow seep, but was deep enough that it was going to need a good few stitches to hold it together.

He glanced swiftly over at Roxas, wondering if he could get the kid to agree to being ditched for long enough for him to go and get it taken care of. His lack of protest about Axel not going straight to hospital suggested to him that Roxas was going to try and avoid official channels, once again, in regard to these attacks. So their intentions were aligned in that respect, at least – although Axel couldn’t help but feel a little miffed that the kid was willing to let him keep bleeding in order to avoid being faced with difficult questions. Hadn’t he just saved his _life?_ And so far, not even a ‘thank you’ had been uttered.

Jesus. What the hell was Axel even _doing_ anymore?

At his long sigh, and the hand that rose to wipe its way down his face, Roxas looked over. Axel met his gaze for a flickering second, the blue of his irises all the more prominent compared to the burst blood vessels that stained the whites red. The sight made him want to wince. “…You know, I probably know the answer to this already,” he reluctantly started up, “but don’t you think you need a doctor?”

Roxas immediately shook his head, a slight motion that obviously hurt his neck. He let out a whispery sound involuntarily, and returned to gazing out the windshield. Axel clicked his tongue impatiently.

“You are seriously just the _most stubborn…_ ah, forget it. It’s your goddamn throat. Good luck trying to explain it when you turn up to work tomorrow night, is all.”

Roxas swallowed, and with some effort wheezed, “…It’ll be fine.”

Axel gave a short, mirthless laugh, propping his forehead on his knuckles, elbow against the window. “Sure, kid. Whatever you say.”

They drove the rest of the way without speaking, the hush interrupted only by Roxas’ occasional, feeble coughs. With each one, Axel’s hands tightened imperceptibly around the wheel, until, by the time they finally arrived, his knuckles were bright white. His fingers ached as he unfurled them, finally noticing what he’d been doing and quietly cursing. What was _wrong_ with him?

Like a couple of old men, they eased out of the car tiredly and carefully, neither one particularly able right now. Axel locked up and gestured for Roxas to follow him, leading the way slowly down the stairs to the basement door. It took him a moment to get through the deadlocks, but Roxas, taking his time checking out the neighbourhood as he waited, didn’t seem to question the level of home security he employed.

The apartment was dark as they entered, Axel never more aware of the mildewy smell than he was at this moment. With the immediate danger having passed, he was suddenly uneasy about having Roxas here. This apartment had never meant to host the kid; Roxas was never supposed to have known it existed, and especially was never meant to have been glimpsed within so much as a five mile radius of it. That was the whole reason why Axel had chosen such an out-of-the-way dump. But now, here he was, ushering the blond ahead of him and closing the door behind them.

He reset the locks and switched on the lights, then wondered suddenly, with a clutch, if he’d left anything out that Roxas shouldn’t see. _Shit._ He had weapons peppered throughout the place – worse than that, he had a small book he’d been filling with _information_ about the kid! Where the fuck had he left _that?_ It wasn’t like he just left sensitive, incriminating things lying around – you never knew who might enter your living space in your absence – but even so, _Jesus Christ._ Had he really, _really,_ just brought his target right into his base of operations?

While he quietly panicked, his gaze darting surreptitiously about in search of any damning materials, Roxas, face heavy, gave the place a mere glance, then turned and roughly asked, “Can I use the bathroom?”

Axel, forcing a smile, breathed, “Yeah – sure, go ahead. It’s, uh, right through there.” Roxas looked over to where he was pointing, and slouched off in that direction. Axel’s thin smile hovered in place until the door closed, at which point he began a frantic, limping hunt through the apartment, looking for anything that was perhaps not as concealed as it should have been. He was a professional, of course, but after the several weeks of nothingness he had experienced, a slight lapse in precautions could be expected.

Luckily, these things came automatically to him after so long, and he could find nothing that would tip Roxas off to his true identity or intentions. He could relax… kind of. He just had to make sure he didn’t leave Roxas _alone_ for any good stretches of time… um, like he was now, with the kid in the bathroom, where Axel had a firearm duct-taped to the back of the toilet.

 _Oh, shit._ How long had Roxas been in there?

Heart in his throat – wondering, with a clutch, if this job was going to finish early after all – Axel hurried to the bathroom door and knocked. “Uh, Roxas? You still alive in there?” All this rushing around was freaking _killing_ his hip. God, he hoped another struggle wasn’t about to ensue when he was at such a physical disadvantage.

There was a pause, before Roxas answered, “I’m nearly done. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Face screwing up slightly, Axel nodded, turning and hobbling away. Roxas’ tone had been strange, making him wonder if it was all over. Could he explain away a gun behind the toilet? It _was_ a dicey neighbourhood. As long as the kid didn’t also find the spare clip of ammunition stashed beside the knife in the laundry basket, he might be able to get away with it. For crap’s sake, he had _not been expecting company. Ever._

It was only as he reached the couch that it clicked in his mind what had sounded so unusual about Roxas’ voice – it wasn’t just the way he had spoken, it was… that he had sounded – normal. No more rasping.

With a frown, Axel turned around, just as, with a rattle of the handle, Roxas opened the bathroom door and slowly stepped out.

Axel stood stock still and stared for a good, long minute. The kid’s throat… was fine. All the hideous bruising and the pattern of the goddamn rope that had been used on him, imprinted into his flesh, was just… gone. It was back to its smooth, gold-tinged self, perfectly touchable, completely unmarred. Completely un _harmed._

“…That’s not possible.”

Even Roxas’ eyes were back to normal, as if ruptured capillaries could just spontaneously mend, everything reversing like a tape on rewind.

Axel, growing agitated now, repeated, “It’s not _possible._ You were – I _saw_ you – how can you…?” He broke off, squeezed his eyes shut, collected himself, and tried again. “Roxas. You need to tell me what’s going on. Now.”

“…I know.” Roxas approached, his backpack hanging from one hand. coming to a halt in front of Axel. He seemed to have trouble holding the man’s gaze for longer than a moment at a time, a sense of nervousness vibrating from him. “But first… let me help you. Okay? Consider it part of my explanation. And…” He hesitated, then bowed his head. “Part of my… reparations. You were never supposed to be involved in any of this. I’m sorry you got hurt, Axel.” His voice, towards the end, was a regretful mutter.

Forehead creasing, feeling a headache coming on, Axel shook his head faintly. “Roxas…” He didn’t know quite what to say. Scratching a hand through his hair, he sighed, “How do you expect to be able to help me?”

“Is there a bed around?”

A hundred sarcastic answers flew through Axel’s brain, but in the end, he simply gestured towards the bedroom. Roxas led the way, bringing his backpack with him. As Axel entered the room, Roxas sat on the edge of the bed. Glancing around, the kid observed, “Your apartment is more stark than I imagined.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Axel responded, “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on staying here all that long. Still looking for a, uh, more suitable place to settle. This apartment’s a temporary sort of measure.” He stopped, and scratched his head vigorously, a sign of his aggravation. “An-anyway – what are we doing, Roxas? Why the bed?”

The blond patted the covers behind him. “Come lie down.” When Axel squinted, he added, “Please?”

With a grimace, Axel did as he was bidden. He climbed awkwardly onto the bed and settled onto his stomach, the bloodied towel still strapped to his lower back. Holding himself up on his elbows, he turned his head to watch what Roxas was doing. The kid rooted around in his backpack, then brought out a medium-sized felt bag with something lumpy and misshapen inside. “What’s that?” Axel asked. Roxas set the backpack down and loosened the ties around the little bag, pushing the mouth open and pulling out – a rock? “What are you going to do, put me out of my misery with that thing?”

“Yes, Axel. This is my head-punching rock.” Roxas shot him a sharp look. “Will you settle down?”

Axel sighed. “Right. Okay. I’m zipping it.” He mimed as such, dragging a finger and thumb across his mouth, sending Roxas a look that asked, _Satisfied now?_ He was confused, and in pain, and fucking tired after everything that had happened, so he felt like he was entitled to a little bit of snark. It didn’t help that Roxas had actively defied the laws of _nature_ by popping out of the bathroom looking like the last hour of the night hadn’t even happened. This job, man – this job. It had gone so far beyond the norm it was in outer fucking space by now.

So. The rock. Axel rested his face against his wrists and watched closely for what Roxas was going to do next. The rock was about the size of the kid’s hand, with rough, uneven surfaces and veins of what looked like pale amber running through it. Cut down, polished up, it might have been something worth looking at, but right now it was just a lumpy chunk of mineral. Axel couldn’t see what purpose it might possibly serve.

Roxas reached for the belt buckle holding the towel in place, Axel automatically scowling, asking, “What’re you doing?”

The blond drew a breath, darted him a quick look, and simply requested, “Trust me.”

Unable to really argue with that, Axel hissed through his teeth but nodded, lying still as Roxas’ nimble fingers released the belt and pulled it away. Next, he removed the towel, Axel stiffening slightly as the fabric, thick with his blood, came unstuck from the wound. “Oh, I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered. He kept a beady eye on every moment of the procedure, scepticism growing as Roxas then picked the rock back up and held it firmly in his fist over the site of the stabbing. It was only by glancing again at Roxas’ perfectly fine throat that he managed to suspend his disbelief, waiting to see where this went.

Roxas closed his eyes for a minute, his breaths steady. Axel stared hard, first at the blond’s face, set in concentration, then, as something glinted in his fist, down at the rock. A frown spreading across his features, Axel watched closely, blinking as the glint occurred again. It was like a light flashing over something reflective, only Roxas hadn’t moved an inch – the rock shouldn’t have been reflecting anything. It happened a few more times, like a spark, Axel’s eyes widening each time, until, like an engine turning over, the glinting gave way to a weak glow.

“What…?”

Around the same time that the glow started, he felt a curious heat begin to diffuse through his body, originating at the stab wound, then spreading. It flowed through his limbs, across his chest and stomach, up into his hair… His eyes slipped shut without him even noticing as the sensation absorbed him, like a warm, gentle hand enfolding him from head to toe. It lasted only about a minute, maybe less, but was the sort of incredible feeling that he was sure would stay with him for some time to come. He had never known anything like it.

As it eventually left him, fading softly, he dreamily opened his eyes and murmured, _“Wow.”_

He felt a pressure on his back, and saw that Roxas was feeling the area where he had been stuck with the knife, but… without the inherent pain. He could feel Roxas’ fingers moving over the skin, like there was nothing there. He reached back slowly, touching the area himself, finding only whole, unbroken flesh. That woke him up a little, lifting him from his vague state as he realised the truth of it: the wound was gone. Just like Roxas’ neck, the area was – normal again. It was like he’d never been damaged in the first place.

He rolled onto his side, testing the area more purposefully, really – really _checking,_ and then double-checking, with the same results each time: the hole had closed. The understanding hit him as hard as if the kid really had clocked him with the rock. His large eyes darted to Roxas.

“Holy shit! You can _heal?”_

Roxas shook his head. “It isn’t me.” He opened his hand, showing Axel the rock. “This is… cornerstone. It’s a fragment that I…” he searched for a word, “…um, _appropriated_ from the lab.”

Eyebrows rising, Axel asked, “So you stole it?”

“I obtained it,” Roxas said, defensively. “That’s all. It’s not like there isn’t more cornerstone where this came from. There’s a surplus at the lab, so nobody noticed when it, uh... went missing.”

Axel wondered, feeling a little overwhelmed, _“Why?”_

“I have a high resonance with cornerstone,” Roxas quietly explained. “That’s why I was selected for the research team. I can bring out its healing properties.” He laughed a little, apprehensively. “But, uh, no one knows that it’s quite like this. Um.” He trailed off, looking down at the rock, which no longer glinted or glowed, unremarkable upon his palm.

“But this-!” Axel stopped abruptly – he had almost blurted, _This is the basis for potions!_ That wasn’t common knowledge yet, however; science’s biggest medical discovery – that a mere rock could all but bring a person back from the brink of death when made potable – had yet to actually be recorded. “This – is – amazing,” he managed to shift gears to. “How is this even possible? Is this – common?”

The blond again shook his head in the negative. “Not really. It’s all still theoretical that cornerstone can be used as a restorative. I’ve always had a high affinity with the stones, though. The light-based minerals react to me, I guess.”

“I would say it’s a little further along than _theoretical_ right now,” Axel pointed out, experiencing a sinking feeling in his gut as he said it. Was this actually the moment? Had Roxas already figured it all out, with the next step being his assassination?

But – to Axel’s baffled relief – the kid said, “This isn’t what they’re trying to prove.”

Blinking, nodding – confused as shit – he asked, “Well, what is, then?” Roxas hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he should be going into it. Axel groaned, “Oh, come _on,_ Roxas – I’m in too deep now for you to start acting coy about it. And you still haven’t got to the part where those _assholes_ keep trying to kill you!”

Roxas sighed. “…Actually, they’re not.”

“What? Not assholes? Not trying to kill you?” Axel demanded. “Because I will fight you on _both_ of those.”

Roxas gave him a weak smile, the first in so long it was almost startling. “I’m not going to argue about them being assholes. Go to town on that one.” He drew a breath and puffed out his cheeks. “But, despite all appearances, they, uh, they’re not actually trying to _kill_ me. As such.”

Glaring, Axel asked, “So that thing with the rope was just an overexcited _hello,_ was it? Well, I guess _I_ overreacted, then.”

Holding his hands out, trying to quell the redhead’s irritation, Roxas said, “No, no, you were right to do what you did, they’ve never gone that far before…”

“Roxas – who _are_ they?”

The kid sagged a little. “…I don’t know.” As Axel started to flare up, he hurried on to say, “But I know what they want. I just don’t know who sent them. Not… not exactly.”

Axel settled back down, eyebrows rising expectantly. “Well?” he demanded. “I’m waiting. Don’t drag this out, sunshine, I’m not a fan of suspense.”

“They are… most likely from a rival research company,” Roxas told him, looking away. “If I’m going to be honest, probably ShinRa, but it’s impossible to actually find out. Their power goes too high up to ever actually investigate them officially. That’s why, after the first time those guys got to me, the police couldn’t find anything.” As Axel narrowed his eyes, the kid shrugged his shoulders, continuing, “They found out about my affinity with the cornerstone samples, probably during the initial trials, and now they’re trying to… make me use it properly.”

“Uh- _huh…”_ Axel prompted, not allowing him to lapse into any silences.

Roxas scowled a little. “You know, this is highly classified information. If I tell you more, I could be not only fired, but _jailed._ I signed a statement of non-disclosure when I started at the lab.”

“And you don’t think it’s maybe a _little_ late for that now?” Axel suggested. “I told you already: I’m in too deep, Roxas. I already know so much I’m not supposed to, so how about we just go all the way in, and _then_ you can worry about me keeping my mouth shut – okay? A little information is supposed to be a dangerous thing, after all.”

Resignedly, Roxas, after a moment, nodded his agreement. “Okay. Cards on the table, then.” He held up the chunk of cornerstone for Axel to get a good look at. “The thing we’re trying to achieve with our research is a way to charge the cornerstone. Right now, it’s a rock with some latent properties geared towards healing. But, if we can find a way to purify it, which occurs when it achieves a maximum resonance of energy with its environment, it would become an extremely potent restorative that we hope can be used in a healing tonic. Are you with me so far?”

“It’s a useless lump until it gets purified by resonance. Got it.”

Roxas lifted his eyes heavenward. “…Sure, why not? So, what we’re experimenting with is, of course, ways to purify the stones. That’s the hard part. People like me come along and we can bring out a _degree_ of the stones’ properties, but in order for the project to be successful, it has to become permanent. Even what I can do with my fragment of cornerstone isn’t enough.”

“Even though you can actively _heal_ a person?” Axel incredulously asked. “Why don’t you tell them you can do that? Why keep it to yourself? Even if it’s not what they’re looking for, the discovery of healers through the use of cornerstones is significant, right?”

Roxas hesitated. “It’s still largely untested. And, and I wasn’t supposed to take it, so…”

“So _what?_ You think Ansem’s going to hold a grudge because you used it in a way he didn’t authorise, even though it results in personal healing abilities?” Axel really couldn’t see the issue here. He asked, “What else is there that you’re not telling me?”

Roxas was silent for a moment. “…You don’t understand. If anyone found out about it, they’d make _me_ the experiment. I would become company property, and… I don’t know what would happen to me.” As Axel stared, Roxas frowned down at the stone. “Just as someone with an _affinity_ for cornerstone I had to go through a litany of tests like you wouldn’t believe. They became more and more taxing with each round, until it was just me and a few others left. One of the final qualifiers dropped out because of how intense it all was. Ansem…” He hesitated. “He has unusual ideas about… what’s okay when it comes to research. If he found out that I could actually _use_ the stone like this…” He stopped talking, and Axel didn’t need to hear any more to understand what he was afraid of.

“All right,” he said, slowly and calmly, “so what about the silver-haired guys? Where do they fit into this? Why do they keep hurting you?”

“There’s this one theory,” Roxas heavily explained, “that heightened human emotion can charge a stone. Cornerstone, without human interaction, is just a kind of rock. Once we get our hands on it, it’s like it vibrates at a different frequency. It responds to us.” He smoothed his fingers over the ridges of the stone in his hand. “There’s a school of thought that what it’s responding to is our emotions. Ansem dismisses that one – he thinks it’s too unscientific an answer – but from what I gather, ShinRa is pretty into the idea. Everyone’s trying so hard to be the first to prove their theory as the right one…” He sighed. “Those guys that keep coming after me…” He raised his eyes to Axel’s. “I think what they’re trying to do is frighten me. I already have such a connection with the cornerstone, and I think that what _they_ think is that there’s no stronger emotion than… the will to live.” His voice dropped. “That’s what tonight was about. It was more drastic than usual, though. Maybe they’re getting desperate.”

Axel closed his eyes, processing everything he’d been told, trying to come to a sensible conclusion about it all. “…Do you think those guys know you can use it like you do?”

Roxas shook his head firmly. “No. Nobody knows. I only found out by accident myself, and I’ve never told anyone.”

Axel absorbed this, something new occurring to him. A line appearing between his brows, he asked, “Doesn’t the fact that they’re doing this mean… that they _know_ you have that fragment?”

Roxas’ face fell a little. He looked weary. “Yeah. I’ve thought about that before. That, along with the fact that they have any info on me at all, kind of suggests to me that… there’s probably someone on the inside helping them. Helping ShinRa.”

Axel released a short breath through his nose, rubbing a thumb into his forehead. “Perfect,” he muttered. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any good guesses up your sleeve?”

Roxas’ answering grimace said it all. “I can’t imagine who it is. Everyone involved in the project has everything invested in it – not the least being their careers. I know them all pretty well by now, and I just… can’t picture any of them doing it.”

“And there’s no one else it could be?” Axel suggested, helplessly aware that Roxas probably wouldn’t know either way. “Nobody else has access to that information? What about – what about Seifer? That guy’s an epic jerk-off, maybe he’s doing this on the side to make extra money.”

Roxas gave another small, lopsided smile at his summary of Seifer. “No. Nobody not directly involved with the project could possibly know any of this. You are… a special circumstances party.”

Axel laced his fingers together and heaved a sigh. This was… a major obstacle. Once again, his knowledge was minimal, and it frustrated the hell out of him. He, who was from an era so far from this one, should have been the one holding all the answers; but he was as much in the dark as Roxas was, going through it one day at a time. He rubbed his face. “Okay, so – what now? You obviously can’t go back to your house any time soon, those goons could be waiting for you, and your alarm system doesn’t seem to be much of a challenge for them.” He shot the blond a hard look. “And I don’t care if you think they’re not trying to kill you – they had a damn good go at it tonight. Who knows, if they’re brutal enough to attack you just to get a rise out of the cornerstone, maybe they’d be willing to go all the way just to see what happened. It’s not like you’re the only person in the world who… who ‘resonates’ with the stones. They could always find someone new to torment.”

Roxas sobered, this thought apparently not having occurred to him. “…Maybe.”

Axel drew a breath, hardly able to believe what he was about to say. “You should stay here, then. It’s safe here, those guys can’t get you when I’m around.”

Roxas regarded him with a slight smile, then slowly shook his head. “Thank you,” he said. “I mean that. If you weren’t with me, I don’t know what would be happening.”

Hah. Chances were, he wouldn’t be nearly getting strangled to death in his own home, and Axel knew it. If he hadn’t interfered, maybe hadn’t stabbed the long-haired guy in the leg, those chumps might not have been driven to such a high-stakes act.

“But,” Roxas continued, “I don’t think staying here is a good idea.” He glanced around. “I’ll admit, it has a sort of… fortress-like feel to it, your apartment…” Axel got the feeling that wasn’t a warm compliment. “…but they already know that I’m with you. I don’t want to put you at risk any more than I have.”

Axel frowned. “I wouldn’t let them near you, Roxas. And I’m already involved, so -”

The blond reached over, silencing him with a touch to his hand. “I appreciate that you want to help,” he said, firmly now. “But I can’t live my life in fear of them. I’ll find a way to stay safe – without anyone else having to get hurt.”

Axel grappled with feelings of frustration and powerlessness – the kid just didn’t understand that some things couldn’t be dealt with by moxie and determination alone. He didn’t _get_ it: there really were forces that wanted him _dead,_ and all the self-defence skills in the world weren’t going to help him when that time came. He was so caught up in thoughts of keeping others out of his mess, he didn’t seem to realise that the greatest risk here was posed to himself.

He couldn’t see that he was little more than a dead man walking, even now.

Hissing through his teeth, expression contorting for a moment, Axel ducked his head. He was too indiscreet around Roxas. He didn’t want the kid asking what the face he was making was for.

Having caught a glimpse of it, however, Roxas drew his own conclusions. The gentle touch on his hand lifted to Axel’s cheek. The skin where he touched tingled, Axel going still. The old, worn bed creaked as the blond shifted closer, a second touch coming as his other hand rested against the other side of Axel’s face. Then came a third touch – a soft kiss at the top of Axel’s bowed head.

The sigh that left him did so without warning, the strength seeming to leak from the redhead. Brows still knitted, he nevertheless was unable to resist as Roxas lifted his face, the blond meeting his eyes for a heartbeat before sending them fluttering shut with a kiss.

The moment stretched, Roxas’ lips soft, giving way to the gentle touch of a tongue, Axel drawn hopelessly in. He inhaled, smelling the faint scent of the kid’s hair. Roxas, ever the one to take things further – to mess with Axel’s head like no one else – intensified the kiss, his hands moving around to the back of his head. Mouth opening, tongue delving deeper, Axel seemed to act as if in a dream, arms rising from where they hung by his sides, winding around Roxas, pulling him close.

The quiet sound of their kisses filled the silence of the room, the whole apartment still and empty but for the two of them sitting on the bed. An ambulance rushed past, blue and red lights blasting briefly through the high window, siren piercing, but it belonged to a world outside of this small one only the two of them inhabited. Slowly, they changed positions, Axel sliding further back onto the bed, Roxas following, heavy against him, until he sat atop Axel, who lay with his head on the pillow, their lips barely breaking apart as they moved.

Axel’s hands travelled, breaths becoming heated, Roxas shuddering as his fingers returned to where they had been so long ago now, under his shirt, tracing his ribs. The teasing tone of earlier had vanished, however; the redhead’s touches started off light and exploratory, but gradually became firmer, a sense of hunger entering his kisses as he caressed his way up Roxas’ chest, finding and tweaking his nipples. This made Roxas finally pull back, head jolting up, a whispering grunt escaping his throat – his clear, not-strangled throat – which Axel then had no choice but to arch up and press his mouth to. Another sound breathed from Roxas, the blond lost in sensation as Axel lapped and kissed at his neck, palms simultaneously stroking at his chest, his shoulders, dragging down his belly to the hem of his shirt. He unbuttoned the shirt from bottom to top, the kid shrugging it off and dragging the tank top with it.

As he sat atop him, bare-chested and flush-cheeked, eyes clouded, hair mussed with glistening lips, Axel could think of no more stunning sight than this. His chest tightened, stomach seeming to ball in on itself, a sense of bewilderment descending, together with a clutch of – was this… fear?

A coldness crept over him, his body leaden all of a sudden, mouth going dry. Roxas, not noticing the change, took it upon himself to rid Axel of his undershirt, the black shirt he had worn tonight still somewhere on the floor in the blond’s bungalow. Distracted by the remembrance of the bruises patterning his stomach, Axel lifted his head, ready to explain it away when the kid inevitably exclaimed over them – but the moment never came. Roxas dipped down and began kissing Axel’s chest, the redhead craning his neck, seeing, past the swathe of blond, plain, clean skin. The cornerstone had even healed him of that.

Head dropping back onto the pillow, he sighed, _“Jesus,”_ wondering what the hell he had got himself involved in. What the hell kind of job _was_ this? He didn’t… didn’t even know anymore. Everything was fucked up, a web in his head that grew messier and more obscuring the longer it went on.

Such sobriety was interrupted by Roxas’ fingers on his jeans, plucking the button open, sliding the zipper down, Axel jerking his head up again, about to – what? Object? Cut this whole thing short, head it off before it got _completely_ out of hand? But – wasn’t this end result what he had spent the whole night, _weeks_ even, orchestrating?

Then Roxas slipped his hand in, and all such thoughts were gasped away. Teeth clenching, he groaned as the blond massaged his cock through his underwear. He glanced down, a frisson passing through his body as he found intense blue eyes gazing back. The blond gave him a gentle squeeze, feeling his length from base to tip, before swinging a leg over him, sitting lightly on his thighs. Tugging down both jeans and trunks, Roxas sent him a promising wink. “Let me thank you properly for all your help.”

“Um…” was all Axel could utter, before releasing an unsteady sigh as the blond bent and took him into his mouth. Hands grasping for something to hold onto, he eventually settled for fistfuls of the bedcovers, as Roxas expressed his ‘thanks’, sucking Axel to full erection. The pleasure that sparked through Axel was – immense. Roxas’ tongue rolled against his cock, the pace slow but exquisite, the redhead’s legs shifting, heels digging into the mattress, knees bumping up restlessly, unable to keep still. Roxas had to lean a hand on the bed to keep his balance, the other hand rubbing Axel’s hip, his thumb dragging in small circles.

Swallowing, chest hitching a little as his breaths began to pant, Axel stared up at the mould-spotted ceiling, eyelids occasionally drooping with the drag of Roxas’ lips around him. Small grunts and murmurs slipped from his mouth, hands rhythmically tightening and loosening on the covers, the squirming of his hips increasing as the blond sucked him closer to the edge. Sensing his excitement growing with the throb of his erection, Roxas slowed, then stopped, giving one long, last lick before drawing away.

Seeing the dazed expression on Axel’s face, he couldn’t help but give a small giggle, Axel grinning languidly in response to the sound. He then shivered, his damp erection exposed to the cool air. Thinking that the blond hadn’t wanted a mouthful of spunk, he reached down to finish himself off, only to be stopped by Roxas’ hand around his wrist. “Not yet,” the kid chided, and, continuing to hold him as though untrusting of his ability to abstain, he ducked down and grabbed something from beside the bed. He hitched his backpack up into view and deposited it on Axel’s stomach, the redhead watching as he once again started to dig through, wondering what else Roxas had thought to bring.

He got his answer pretty quickly: Roxas grabbed something out, balled in his fist, and dropped the bag back to the floor. Uncurling his fingers, Axel saw him holding…

He laughed.

It was a condom, and a tube of lubricant.

“You had just been strangled, and you thought of _this?”_ he asked, amusement thick in his voice.

“They were right there when I was getting the belt,” Roxas grinned. “I knew we’d be fine. What was I meant to do – _not_ shove them in? Didn’t you know I’m an optimist?”

“Yeah, well…” Axel shifted a little, reached down into the pocket of his tugged-down jeans and fished out his wallet. He unfolded it as Roxas watched curiously, the kid then letting out a laugh of his own as Axel brought out the four colourful condoms he had lined it with.

“O- _ho,_ and you were _quite_ the optimist,” the blond crowed. His smile became a smirk, sexy and faintly teasing, as he crept up alongside Axel and lay down. “But I kind of like that.”

Their heads now sharing the pillow, chests together, noses a bare inch apart, they grinned at each other. Then, gradually, the events of the night seeming to build up and collapse into this moment, their smiles faded, Axel, for the first time, being to one to lean in and initiate the kiss. He lifted onto his elbow, pressing Roxas gently onto his back, and proceeded to nibble and peck his way down the blond’s body, reaching his pants and undoing them, Roxas lying with a beatific expression in place as he pulled them down his thighs, over his knees, past his ankles, then pushed them to the floor.

The redhead kissed his way back up from Roxas’ feet, reaching his groin and paying special attention to every patch of flesh that _wasn’t_ his steadily swelling member. Only when the kid gave a somewhat tortured moan did he turn his focus onto Roxas’ cock, kissing his way along the hot flesh until a different type of moan met the air. Touching the hand that was holding the lube and condom, he rolled the lube from Roxas’ palm and uncapped it, squeezing some out and rubbing it to warm it up.

Once the fluid slicked his fingers, he slithered up to where Roxas patiently waited and kissed him deeply, pressing his fingers into the blond one at a time, stretching him out. He went slowly, taking the time to ensure that Roxas would be ready for him, well aware that the fact that he hadn’t been out with anyone in a long time also meant that he hadn’t had sex for a while. As he reached three fingers, Roxas beginning to sigh and gasp a little, Axel pressed his lips to the blond’s ear, asking, “You about ready?”

Roxas laughed a little, a dry, breathless sound. “You know, I spent… a lot of energy resisting you.” He turned his head, pressing their lips briefly together. “So hurry up and do it.”

Needing no further encouragement, Axel tugged the condom on, kissed Roxas on the jaw, and positioned himself between the blond’s legs. Holding his thighs back with one forearm, he lined himself up with the other hand and nudged against Roxas’ opening. In short, careful strokes, he entered bit by bit, wanting, with the kid so vulnerable in his arms, to be… kind. Wanting to be gentle.

Once he was in, he lifted his other hand, holding the blond behind each knee, half-lidded eyes on his face, watching every flicker in his expression come and go, discomfort mixed with anticipation, the beginnings of pleasure as Axel went deeper with each slow pump. Then, as he grazed his prostate, Roxas’ eyes flashed wide, a gulp sounding out, hands clawing for Axel’s shoulders, grabbing hold and squeezing hard.

With a low chuckle, Axel sank down over him, settling with an elbow beside Roxas’ head, and set a steady pace. Each thrust, every moment inside Roxas, seemed to snatch a little more of the air from Axel’s lungs, while under him the blond panted and writhed. His every breath reacted directly to the way that Axel moved within him, sometimes shallow, other times deeper, with mewling noises humming out each time the redhead hit his prostate. Each moment was ecstasy, every inch of Axel’s body humming, perspiration gathering across his bare skin, Roxas in the same state, glistening beneath him.

From the second they had met, everything he did, every word he said, every calculated move he made, was geared towards this event. Axel had achieved the ultimate in getting close to his target… but nothing could have been further from his mind right now. Swept up in the bliss of thrusting into Roxas, such ideas were a haze that existed in another lifetime entirely. All he knew was that he was here, right now, with a beautiful face gasping beneath his own, hot hands moving agitatedly across his shoulders and neck, two bodies connected across time itself.

When Roxas’ breaths started to grow ragged, his walls tightening around Axel’s cock, he felt the end approaching and almost feared it. Everything he was putting off would come rushing back once this was over. Despite this, he couldn’t stop – couldn’t so much as slow. He pushed his face into Roxas’ cheek and felt his body take over, harbouring none of the uncertainties of his spirit. His thrusts grew shorter and more frantic, Roxas’ voice cracking as he cried out. Axel grunted against him, his arms tightening around the blond until, one closely following the other, they came.

Roxas’ voice faded away, the silence of the apartment returning as they breathed heavily against one another. Slowly, clumsily, Roxas took hold of Axel’s face and tugged it up, pressing his lips sloppily against the redhead’s. His eyes were, thankfully, shut. Otherwise he might have questioned the terrible twist of Axel’s expression, the wideness of his eyes and the splinter of panic that lay therein.

The kiss lasted until the kid drifted into slumber, evidently worn out by the night. Axel withdrew from his body and lay down at his side, the sweat cooling on his skin. Minutes passed, during which he simply stared blankly at the peaceful look on Roxas’ face.

Such a thing was completely out of his reach. Peace, sleep… Axel wouldn’t be knowing either of those tonight.

The only thing he knew – knew with an absolute certainty, as if it was cemented into the fabric of reality itself – was that he was fucked.

He was just… so fucked.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The sleepy chirping of dawn’s early-rising birds drew Axel’s dead-eyed gaze over from the spotted ceiling to the high, narrow window to the outside world. Sunlight had yet to break through the darkness, but it was coming. He hadn’t slept a wink.

With Roxas’ steady breathing to mark the minutes’ passage, he had lain awake, staring into nothingness, for around three hours. His body felt heavy, his thought processes grinding, but there was just no way in hell he could sleep. There was too much going on internally – and too much effort to be expended keeping it all, all… all at bay.

Now, however, unable to face lying there a minute longer, watching the sun’s rays slowly and depressingly fill the room, Axel rolled carefully out of the bed. He narrowly missed stepping on the tied-shut condom he’d dropped onto the floor, plucking it up with two fingers, staring at it for a moment before heading over to the door. Fishing up his underwear as he passed, he paused in the doorway, glancing back for a long moment at Roxas’ sleeping figure, a placid lump beneath the sheets… then turned and closed the door.

He tossed the condom in the trash, yanked on his trunks, stood restlessly for a minute, hands bunching and releasing as he gazed around in the silence of his apartment. Swallowing, he went and checked that all the bathroom weaponry remained undisturbed, making sure that Roxas definitely hadn’t stumbled across any of it last night. Then, with little to do that he was willing to embark upon with his target sleeping in the next room, Axel went and sat on the couch, hands clasped together, face pale and drawn. He waited for Roxas to wake up, however long that would take.

Everything in Axel felt… uneasy. Supremely so. He wasn’t yet willing to confront the reasons why, however, and so simply sat there with it all welling up inside, a swollen reservoir he hadn’t noticed filling until the threat of bursting became imminent. He had to… had to ride this out.

Sitting back, arms tightly folded across his chest, Axel pinched the bridge of his nose tightly and closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, on keeping calm. Getting worked up about things wasn’t going to make any of it any easier. He mustered up some strength, no easy task on zero sleep, and forced all the – all the _conflicted_ feelings down. If he couldn’t make them go away, he’d damn well just pack ’em down until he couldn’t feel them anymore. In doing so… the contract would not be compromised. He’d be okay.

He could do this.

“Axel?”

He jumped. Sitting straight, he twisted to see Roxas standing in the bedroom doorway, sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired, looking adorably dishevelled. _Shit._ He stomped on that one hard. Adorably dishevelled? More like the ten kinds of crap everyone looked first thing in the morning. _That_ was how Roxas looked. And seeing his face… certainly didn’t bring back memories of the last time he’d seen that face, seen the expression no one at the lab had seen, all that pleasure, all that excitement, the way his skin had glistened in the feeble light…

Axel cleared his throat, harshly, then said, with all the wooden calm in the world, “I wasn’t expecting you up so early.”

Roxas nodded vaguely, not noticing the strange tone, and shuffled out into the room. He had dressed himself, albeit a little sloppily. From here, Axel could see a couple of buttons in the wrong holes. God _damn,_ the kid was cute.

He stomped on that one, too.

As Roxas approached the couch, he mumbled, “I woke up when you left the bed. It got cold all of a sudden.” Yawning wide enough for Axel to hear his jaw click, the blond came and plopped himself on the sofa next to him. “Nice fashion statement,” he drowsily commented, taking note of Axel’s near-nakedness, before sliding close and snuggling into the redhead’s side. “Ah. Better. You give off a lot of heat.”

Then, he was asleep again.

Axel closed his eyes. While he might ordinarily have resented the hell out the kid for being able to drop in and out of slumber like that when he himself was thoroughly deprived… instead, all he could feel was the tightening of his chest and… a dull, tender ache inside. It was painful. It made it harder to breathe. But of course, everything continued. Something like this – shouldn’t the world stop spinning for long enough to give him time to get his shit together? Shouldn’t there be some kind of emergency protocol he could employ which would numb the nerves, dull the mind, and inject the ice back into his veins?

He supposed the basic problem there was that he wasn’t a naturally icy sort of guy. He was all about the fire – it was what made him so effective at what he did, made him such a brilliant killer. The fire got stoked, the hunting instincts came out, boom – job done.

This time, the fire was working against him, and he hadn’t, in all his life, ever had to douse it. How the hell was he supposed to start now?

He looked down at Roxas’ peaceful expression, then quickly glanced away again. It made the pain in his chest throb to a higher level when he did that. _Note to self: avoid looking at Roxas._

…He sighed.

 He then felt a cool touch on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open to find Roxas a bare inch away, blue eyes a lot more alert now. The fingertip that was against his face twisted a little, Roxas asking curiously, “What’s with these tattoos?”

Axel blinked. “I thought you were asleep.”

“You keep shifting. You’re too restless to sleep on.” He poked Axel’s cheek. “So what about the tattoos?”

 “Uh, well…” Axel glanced away.

Not letting up, Roxas recalled, “I noticed that there was one on your hip, too. Roman numerals, right? ‘Eight’. Either that, or you once had a thing for someone named _Viii._ ”

Christ. Obviously, the truth was out of the question – telling the kid that he’d been branded as a method of cross-time identification should anything go awry in any of his jobs was out of the question; as for the marks on his cheeks, he didn’t think Roxas would appreciate that Axel’s first instinct upon successfully completing his first ever contract had been to commemorate the two kills like notches in a belt only on his stupid _face._

Fighting the temptation to freeze up, he casually said, “They’re just some stuff I got done when I was a teenager and thought that tattoos would be cool.”

Roxas narrowed his eyes a little – then went, “Huh.” He stopped twisting his finger, and instead softly stroked the tattoo a few times. Axel shivered slightly, ducking his head to disengage the contact.

“So, uh, are you hungry at all?” He gently extricated himself from under Roxas’ weight and got to his feet, heading over to the tiny kitchen. Opening a cupboard, he said, “I have – um, cereal.” He picked up the box and shook it. “Almost a whole bowl’s worth.” He glanced back at Roxas, who had lifted his feet up onto the couch, hugging his knees and looking amused.

“Wow, that’s tempting. What, were you not _prepared_ for us to get attacked in my house and need to hole up here for the night? Did you not _think_ about how I’d need to be fed the next day?”

“Me and my lack of psychic skills,” Axel half-heartedly lamented. He sighed, gazing into the bare cupboard for a moment before shutting the door.

“How about we go out to eat? My treat, this time,” Roxas volunteered. When Axel squinted at him, he pointed out, “You paid for everything last night. My turn for breakfast.”

Axel hesitated. He had no issue with letting Roxas pay for food – he just didn’t want to be seen with the kid too much around the home base. “…Okay,” he said, after a pause, “but – just not in my neighbourhood. Lowtown’s not the greatest place to hang out.”

“That’s fine. I know a really good place near my house,” Roxas offered.

Axel forced a jaunty smile. “Or,” he suggested, “we could try somewhere new and different? Expand yourself, Roxas! I want to see more of Archades than just where you live or where I live – let’s find somewhere completely random, just for the hell of it!” He made it sound fun, interesting, anything but truthful. The kid looked thoughtful for a second, then shrugged and nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Cool! Just let me get dressed first.”

Roxas’ expression became a smirk. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”

Axel hurried to the bedroom, dragged on last night’s jeans and a clean shirt from the bedside drawer, Roxas calling lazily from the lounge room, “Hey, can you get me my shoes? And my bag?”

“Uh – sure.” Distractedly, Axel quickly hunted for the items, scooping them up and carrying them out. He knew Roxas would be sitting right where he left him, calmly waiting like they had all the time in the world, like the previous night had barely even happened, but even so, Axel felt the tension bubbling until he was back with the blond, an eye on him at all times. All he needed was for the kid to become curious and nosy enough to snoop around, and he’d have a problem on his hands.

“Okay!” Axel breezed back to the sofa, where Roxas lounged with the gall to still look sleepy. Jesus motherfucking Christ, Axel needed some caffeine. He tossed the kid his shoes, and while he slid them on, grabbed his car keys from the kitchen counter. “Let’s get out of this crap-hole and find somewhere to snag breakfast. I could eat an entire freaking buffet right now.”

The churning of his stomach said otherwise, but a queer energy had seized Axel, a weird, forced cheeriness bursting out of him that was doubtless due to exhaustion.

Roxas shot him a slightly bemused look, obviously noticing it, but didn’t question him. Standing from the couch, he agreed, “Let’s.”

Axel ushered him ahead and followed the blond out of the apartment, fastidiously locking up while Roxas slowly ascended the stairs to the street. Turning from the door, with Roxas still carefully taking one step at a time, Axel realised the kid must be sore from last night. The realisation brought a flurry of memories crashing over him, skin briefly tingling at remembered images of Roxas writhing beneath him. He cleared his throat, Roxas glancing over his shoulder, spying him standing stock-still and wide-eyed, having not moved from the door. Arching a brow, the kid asked, “You coming?”

“Yes!” Axel swallowed, followed him up, and, feeling awkwardly guilty for whatever pain Roxas was feeling, opened the kid’s door for him.

“My – what service,” Roxas commented, sounding like he was maybe laughing a little at Axel now. He eased into the car, while Axel closed the door, hung his head for a moment, fiercely told himself to get his act together, and went around to the driver’s seat. He just could not have been more a walking train wreck if he’d tried. This was getting ridiculous.

Before he climbed into the car, he stood for a moment in perfect stillness to get his bearings. He drew a deep lungful of cool, smoggy Lowtown air, and attempted to assemble himself back into the persona he was affecting for this job. _Axel Drake. Security guard. Trustworthy. Romantic interest, but not too needy._

_Get. It. Together._

He opened the door and slid in, a smooth smile in place. “So, I figure we’ll just drive around until we find somewhere that looks decent. That sound good?”

“It sounds… aimless,” Roxas observed. He dug through his bag and took out his phone. “How about you drive around peering out the window and hoping to stumble across a place by happy accident, and _I’ll_ do a search for restaurants with a breakfast menu that won’t make you barf your soul through your nose.”

“Uh – that works, too.”

Axel drove, as Roxas had correctly supposed, aimlessly, while the kid concentrated on his phone, finger alternately swiping and tapping at the screen. Axel listened to the sound of his fingernail against it, and remembered those same nails scraping through his hair. He shivered faintly.

“Okay, I’ve found a place,” Roxas announced, ten minutes in. He directed Axel using the map on his phone, and before too long they found themselves outside a diner that looked reasonably busy. The parking lot was almost full, the view through the windows showing many a patron sitting down for their morning victuals, with an array of waiters and waitresses flitting between tables. It put Axel’s teeth on edge. That was a lot of sets of eyes.

“Great!” Roxas sounded happy. “With that many people, it must be good.”

Fighting the urge to sigh – wishing he had had more than a goddamn box of cereal in the entire apartment – Axel smiled thinly and nodded. “Uh-huh. Good choice.”

They entered the restaurant and found a recently vacated booth next to a window. The menu was predictable, but the smells drifting through the air were kind of amazing. A shame, then, that all it did was nauseate Axel. When the waitress arrived to take their order, all he could manage to ask for was a cup of coffee. The idea of putting food in his mouth right now bordered on the obscene. He was too agitated, too strung out, to even consider eating.

As the woman left, Roxas shot him a frowning look. “So, what’s up with you? You’ve been kinda weird all morning.”

Axel supposed that hoping the kid wouldn’t notice his mood was a bit of a stretch. He couldn’t begin to actually contemplate the question properly – _what’s up with you?_ Oh, man – and so fell back on the only excuse that would work. “I’m worried about you. It’s like last night never happened.”

Roxas rested his chin on his laced-together fingers and regarded him with hooded eyes and a slow, broad smile. “Oh, but it _did._ I was there. I remember clearly.”

Axel sent him an unimpressed look, despite the fact that oh, God, the kid was talking about the sex, and it had been – he stomped on that one. Clearing his throat, the redhead muttered, “You know what I mean.”

Roxas sighed a little, losing some of his playfulness. Hands flattening on the table, he asked, “What would you prefer I do, Axel? Shiver and be traumatised? Hide in your warm embrace?”

“How about actually treating it seriously?” Axel proposed, an edge to his tone.

“I am treating it seriously,” the blond returned, “but I’m not interested in the stuff that isn’t constructive. For example, when I’m done here with you, I’m going home to look into getting a new security system.”

“You’re going _home?”_ Axel demanded, eyes wide.

“Am I supposed to move in with _you_ until it all blows over?” Roxas archly asked.

Flustered for a moment, Axel grappled for words, then stated, “Well, you’re not going back _alone,_ I can tell you now. I don’t care if you _do_ have a magic rock, you’re not heading into a potentially hostile environment.”

Roxas leaned across the table and growled, _“Ixnay on the agic-mock ray._ Jesus.” He darted a look around to see if they’d been overheard, never mind the fact that no one in this place would even understand it if they had. Axel bowed his head and drew a breath, dragging a hand agitatedly through his hair. Seeing his apparent distress, Roxas took a little pity on him. “Look, if it will make you feel better, I can get some friends to help me. Okay? I’ll call Pence and Hayner and tell them I got – burgled, or something, and ask them to stick around for a while with me.”

“That… would be an improvement,” Axel conceded tightly. The conversation paused as his coffee arrived. He wrapped his hands around it, feeling the sting of heat through the mug. 

Seeing his tension, understanding only an element of it, Roxas sympathetically said, “I’ll be okay, Axel. Those guys won’t be back again in a hurry. I think you saw to that.”

Axel nodded slightly, but couldn’t quite bring himself to start speaking again just yet. He drank some coffee, and focused on the task of settling his rankled nerves. Roxas’ food arrived, the kid digging into a carb-laden plate with gusto. Axel glanced up as he hummed a pleased tone at what was evidently good flavour. He watched Roxas for several minutes, swallowing, finding a bizarre and simple pleasure in witnessing the kid do something as basic as enjoy a good breakfast. His chest throbbed a little, Axel drawing a breath, letting it raggedly go, and lowering his gaze to his coffee.

Hearing him, Roxas looked up. “Whassup?” he asked, through a mouthful of scrambled egg and toast. He gulped it down, followed it with a swallow of juice. “You’re not still worrying, are you?”

Axel was quiet for a moment. “You know the story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, right?” He lifted his green-eyed gaze to the blond, depths unreadable. “What do you think the message was in that story?”

Roxas’ brows came together in bewilderment, but to his credit rolled with the sudden oddness. “I don’t know. Kill old women and trust short men?”

Axel’s sigh came thinly, his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose. “Roxas…”

“What?” the kid defensively demanded. “Excuse me for not knowing the right answer to your incredibly obscure question – what do _you_ think the message of Snow White was, Axel?”

The man stared grimly at a point on the table. “Do you remember the hunter?” He glanced up at Roxas’ baffled expression. “The hunter – he’s sent by the evil queen to take Snow White out somewhere secluded, and then cut out her heart. It’s a simple task, but he can’t do it.” He toyed with the handle of his coffee, turning the mug slowly with a finger. “He’s right over her, knife out, ready for the kill… but he takes one look at her face, and he loses his nerve. Instead of doing what he went there to do, he sends her away. He tricks the queen with another heart, an animal one.”

Obviously trying hard to figure out what Axel was attempting to say, Roxas eventually asked, “And what’s your point?”

Axel hesitated. What the hell was he even saying? “…In my line of work, we call it ‘Hunter’s Syndrome’. Falling for the prey, like some… reverse Stockholm Syndrome. What if… what if one of those guys is like that with you? Maybe that’s why you didn’t die last night.”

Roxas stared. “…Are you out of your mind? Why would any of them…?” He shook his head sharply. “Where is this _coming_ from?”

Good question.

“My point is… that you need to be really, really careful,” Axel grated out, unable to meet the kid’s gaze. “The security system isn’t enough. You also need new locks – maybe a dog or something.”

“A _dog?_ Axel, I’m not buying a dog to keep criminals away, that’s not what they’re for.”

Axel closed his eyes. “Not even if it’s what would stand between you and dying?”

“You’re the one telling me that if one of them has this Hunter’s Syndrome thing, I’m more likely to live,” the kid pointed out.

“Not necessarily!” He barked it out sharply enough to silence the surrounding tables. Roxas’ eyes went wide, his mouth slack, people around them starting to stare. _Damn it._ Way to become the centre of attention.

Growing annoyed, Roxas quietly said, “I’m not really sure what you’re on about, but I think you need to settle down. You’re taking this too far, Axel. Cut it out. I can take care of myself. I’m not an idiot.”

“If you think you’re safe,” Axel bluntly replied, “then the only thing separating you from any other idiot is a magic rock.”

Again, Roxas looked swiftly around, and this time, there were actually people listening in. He hissed, _“Shit,”_ and reached into his pocket. Angrily, he dug out a few notes and dropped them on the table. “Forget this. I’m leaving.”

Startled, Axel watched him rise. “Roxas?”

“Shove it,” the kid helpfully suggested, and started striding away. Axel was on his feet and darting after him in an instant, catching his elbow as he was leaving the restaurant, Roxas growling, “Let me go,” and snatching his arm away.

Out in the cool morning air, Axel demanded, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to call Hayner and get him to pick me up,” the blond shortly informed him. He started digging through his bag for his phone, twisting to squint at the diner’s face, muttering, “What the hell is this place even called?”

“Aw, Roxas…” Hurrying after the kid as he crossed the parking lot, he called, “I’m sorry, okay? You’re not an idiot, I don’t actually think you’re an idiot, it just… slipped out.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re an asshole,” Roxas told him. “That slipped out, too.” He started dialling.

Catching up to him, Axel managed to get a hand on one of his shoulders, stopping him and turning the kid to face him. “Please. Don’t be like this,” he beseeched. “You’ve gotta understand, Roxas, I _work_ in this field, I know a lot more about it than you, I can see the risks and I can _also_ see that you don’t seem to be acknowledging them.” He squeezed Roxas’ shoulders, the kid begrudgingly glowering up at him, but at least meeting his eyes. “You’ve done well again them so far,” Axel went on, a touch of desperation to his voice, “but don’t you get that that’s only because of – uh, special circumstances?” He went quiet as he said, “If it weren’t for me and the rock, you wouldn’t have been so lucky.”

“If it wasn’t for the rock,” Roxas countered, “this wouldn’t be happening anyway.” His call connected, the phone next to his ear, the kid saying, “Hayner?”

Grip tightening, Axel snapped, “For Christ’s sake, Roxas, the only reason I’m being like this is because I _care_ about you, damn it!”

Crap. He hadn’t managed to stomp on that one in time.

He froze the instant the words had left his mouth, Roxas staring at him for a stretching moment. He heard a small, tinny voice calling, _“Roxas? You there? Hello-o? Roxas!”_

Roxas inhaled slowly. “…Hayner? Can you – meet me at my place? I got broken into last night.” He listened, said, “I’m fine. I stayed with a friend. But he’s…” his eyes flashed up at Axel, “…concerned that I won’t be safe by myself until I get a locksmith out.” He listened again. “Uh-huh. Yep. Right. Okay. I’ll see you.” He ended the call. The hand holding the phone sank down to his side. Mildly, he said, “You know, you’re kind of hurting me, there.”

Axel’s hands instantly jumped away from his shoulders. “I’m – sorry.”

Sounding weary, Roxas answered, “I know.” He tossed his head towards the car. “Are you going to take me home, or what? Hayner and Pence are going to be waiting for me.”

Axel blinked, nodded, and unlocked the car. They climbed in in silence, Roxas again easing himself down gingerly into the seat. Axel started it up, pulled out of the parking lot, lips pressed tight. His head was filled with such a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts it was impossible to actually think a single one of them. He was – blank.

After a while, Roxas softly said, “I know you’re worried. It isn’t fair that you’ve been dragged into this.” Before Axel could say anything, he swiftly went on, “But you have been, so there’s no point in me trying to pretend otherwise. Not only that, but you got hurt because of me, _and,”_ again, he cut Axel off, holding up a finger as the redhead opened his mouth, _“and,_ you even saw me getting hurt – maybe I even _would_ have died, I don’t know, that part hasn’t sunk in yet, not for me.” He went quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry if I’ve seemed blasé about it. Maybe if I acted more traumatised, you’d be less worried about me.” He sent a long look over at Axel, who was almost too scared to glance over. “…I care about you, too,” the kid said.

Axel’s heart sank, his fingers trembling briefly before he tightened them around the wheel. It took him a minute to be able to speak, at which point he merely asked, “So you’ll, you’ll think about what I said?”

Roxas sighed, “I’ll do everything but get a dog. Like you said, this is basically your field of expertise – give or take an attempted murderer or two.” The breathy laugh that left Axel was almost frantic. “I don’t think any of them are, uh, falling for me, though,” the blond sceptically went on. “No offense to your ‘Hunter’s Syndrome’ theory, but the fact that I survived last night wasn’t because one of them chickened out due to feelings for me. It was you.” Axel cringed all the way down to his soul. Roxas said it so simply, with such conviction. “You saved me.” He reached out a hand and placed it on Axel’s thigh, not as any kind of advance, but just – a tender sort of touch. “Thank you.”

His teeth were so tight together it was a wonder they didn’t break out of his skull. “It – it was nothing.” He drew an unsteady breath. “Just make those changes. Promise me you’ll make those changes to your home security.”

“I will. I promise.”

Axel nodded curtly, saying nothing more, the rest of the trip passing in silence. For Roxas, it seemed like an easy sort of lull, like he was relaxed and comfortable; for Axel, every minute not filled with mindless babbling was an agony.

When they reached the bungalow, there was a car already in the driveway next to Roxas’. The temp kid and some unknown thin young man were sitting on the porch steps, evidently awaiting their arrival. Axel pulled up alongside the curb, the two guys hopping up immediately and coming over. Roxas opened his door and slid out, and conversation ensued, but if anyone had tried to quiz Axel on the content of it, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them the first thing about what was said. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, muffling every noise, every thought. All he really knew was that his heart kept pounding, and he couldn’t find a way to make it stop.

He exchanged a few words with Pence, was introduced to Hayner, and before he knew it, Roxas had shooed them inside the house and was standing gazing up into Axel’s eyes.

“You look tired.”

“I am,” Axel distantly confessed. So, so tired.

Roxas stretched up, and for a period of time their lips met. Axel sank into the kiss, everything messy and distracting for the moment melting away. He felt a gentle touch on his face, and then they were separated, breaths coming slightly heavier, Roxas’ gaze flicking between Axel’s mouth and his eyes.

“I’ll – see you at work, I guess,” the blond murmured.

“…Yeah.”

Roxas’ hand slid away, and then the kid was walking across the lawn, glancing back only once before he ascended the porch steps and disappeared into the house.

Feeling like some sort of robot, Axel climbed stiffly back into the car, took a moment to remember how to drive, and got going again.

He was exhausted. He was in utter disarray. And yes, he was fucked.

But he still had a job to do. And, first things first, he was going to find out who the fuck those silver-haired guys were, and gut them.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

The first thing Axel did, the only thing he _could_ do, was sleep. Once he got back to the apartment, he just crashed. With Roxas finally out, the space his own again, without fear of accidental discovery, it was like the strings holding him up were sliced away. He literally fell into bed, the last thing he knew before the exhaustion claimed him being Roxas’ scent clinging to the sheets.

When he awoke, a deep and dreamless five hours later, it felt as if someone had snuck in while he was unconscious and poured cement over his body. He was heavy – so heavy – and stiff enough that if his joints had creaked like rusted hinges he wouldn’t have been surprised. Despite the sleep, he felt like shit; his body wasn’t going to be so forgiving of an active night followed by zero recovery time, magic rock of rejuvenation or no. A few snatched hours after the fact didn’t make up for what he’d missed. It wasn’t fair, damn it. 

Hunger pangs in his empty stomach summoned him to the kitchen, pouring the remnants of the cereal into a bowl with the last drizzle of milk and a reminder to himself to go grocery shopping. Right about now, he was regretting having skipped breakfast at the diner. He could still remember the scents in the air, and Roxas’ obvious enjoyment of the food.

He paused, closed his eyes. _Roxas._ Axel’s head was filled with thoughts of him. It made his breath catch and his heart seem to beat double-time. When Roxas was inside his mind, he felt… Axel felt…

He felt – scared.

Inhaling hard to try and calm the mounting anxiety, he stood at the counter and crunched mindlessly through his cereal. What he had to focus on now, more than anything – anything that could push this away, even for a little while – was how to locate and deal with the guys who had tried to kill Roxas. Whatever the kid said, Axel had sensed some pretty fucking clear killing intent last night. People didn’t half-ass things with a garrotte. Had Axel _not_ been there, then…

Oh, wow. Yeah, he wasn’t going to envision that particular scenario. Not right now. It made the cereal do weird somersaults in his gut.

Instead, he considered what little he knew, and it certainly was little: firstly, one of them was named Loz. That was the big guy. Axel remembered his favourite long-haired opponent snapping that one out, and appreciated the help. Second, they likely worked for ShinRa. Axel knew the name, both from his interactions here and the reputation the company still had in his own time. They were a big gun, no doubt about it. There was potential that they were the ones who had hired him. 

That was where his info ended, but it was enough – it gave him a place to start.

Done with eating, he went and retrieved his laptop, plugged it in, and set it up on the coffee table. Sitting on the couch, hunching over the keyboard, he brought up a program he had used countless times before. His computer was the one piece of future technology that he brought with him into the various time periods. It looked simple and unassuming enough that it wasn’t noticeable, but if anyone got the chance to properly sit down and sift through its contents, they’d have been surprised to find ideas that hadn’t been invented yet, occasionally by people that hadn’t so much as been born yet. Then, of course, he’d have had to kill them. A good thing, then, that no one had been inclined to break into his laptop so far.

Connecting to the internet, he took a quick look at the unrestricted ShinRa website, all very uniform in its colouring and efficiency. Boring. Their attempt to paint themselves as the forerunners of scientific progress and human advancement was wearying to look at, all the more so due to Axel’s knowledge that the public was swallowing it hook, line, and sinker. Pulling a face at the screen, he clicked away, entering now into the company’s administrative site. If the public site had been dull to look at, then this one was positively coma-inducing. It was a black background with nothing except some text, links, and the ShinRa company logo. Ugh. No imagination whatsoever.

As punishment, he was gonna hack the fuckers.

He brought up the program he’d previously got going, tapping in some of the admin site’s details. This was going to take a while, especially considering the broadness of the parameters he’d input, but he was going to have the entirety of ShinRa’s records searched for mention of the name ‘Loz’. From the admin site, his program would enter the ShinRa system itself, and from there quietly and invisibly putter its way through layer after layer of security and confidentiality until it had reached the absolute limit of where it could go. Once it had managed that, it would then sift through every piece of information it had touched and take note of any time ‘Loz’ popped up, if at all. It would then, at long last, regurgitate those instances for Axel’s perusal. All up, the process would take… a week or so, he estimated. Considering the enormity of the ShinRa databanks, even a week was amazingly fast, and only then it would be because Axel was using methods of entry ShinRa didn’t yet know it had to fight against.

He got the hack going, sat back for a minute to watch it go through the initial stages of bypassing ShinRa’s various firewalls and blockers, then, when it had made successful entry, he closed the laptop’s lid and left it to do its work. He showered, shaved, and changed into fresh clothes, feeling the slightest bit revived at long last.

So now, it was a matter of playing the waiting game. He could do that – it was the same as biding his time, which would only make the killing blow he had to mete out to the silver-haired trio that bit sweeter and more satisfying. Knowing that the hack was occurring felt very much like being on the prowl; it flared his hunting lust, for the first time since it had dwindled in the face of needing to keep Roxas safe. He had almost, in all his confusion and the long-game, forgotten what this felt like. When his heart thumped hard, it was because the blood of excitement was being pushed through his veins. This was how it was supposed to be.

Being a hunter… was what felt right.

.o.O.o.

Going in to work that night felt almost surreal. A lot of crazy stuff had happened in a condensed period of time, yet here he was, dressed in his guard’s uniform, sitting behind bulletproof glass, continuing as if all was normal. Time marched on regardless of what was occurring within its confines.

Now that he had had a bit of a break from Roxas, he felt… better equipped to deal with the blond again. He had been knocked off-balance last night, between one thing and another, but after resting and just… being away from the kid’s somehow bewitching presence, he felt more in control of himself.

He waited with only a slight amount of tension for Roxas to appear on his security monitors, registering the various researchers in the system as they arrived, one eye always watching, despite himself, for the kid’s arrival. As time went by, however, and Roxas didn’t appear, he had to admit that his nerves were… tightening. He experienced a splinter of doubt as he began wondering if anything had happened, like the duo part of the trio turning up all over again to finish the job. Roxas’ friends had been with him, sure, but would that stop the guys? They hadn’t hesitated to attack with Axel around, after all. If they really were killers, inept though they might have been so far, it wouldn’t have been beyond them to take care of any witnesses.

It wasn’t like Axel wouldn’t have done the same, under certain circumstances. The temp kid, the BFF – they could easily become collateral damage. That was exactly why Axel had tried avoiding getting buddy-buddy with Pence in the first place. Sometimes people got in the way.

This was… an unhelpful train of thought, though. It winched his tension tighter, making things feel – smothering again.

He took a few steadying breaths, and it was during these that he noticed motion on one of the parking lot monitors. The air in his lungs left in a rush as he identified those surprisingly soft spikes on the black-and-white feed. _Roxas._ He was here. Axel hadn’t realised just how much he’d been _waiting_ for the kid until now.

All of a sudden, he didn’t know what to do. His mouth went dry, his palms dampening – he had… _butterflies,_ for God’s sake.  What the hell had he got himself into, that he reacted like this at the mere _sight_ of Roxas? He’d been so cock-sure and arrogant of his ability to win the kid over and get in nice and close for the kill, and now… well, now he was little more than a wreck.

A wreck who had told his target that he cared about him.

Jesus Christ.

His eyes tracked Roxas as he moved through the parking lot, into the elevator, fingernails finding his palms as the kid rode it down and exited into the long cement hallway. Now was Axel’s final chance to collect himself and put forth the correct front. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

When Roxas appeared in front of the window, Axel was waiting with a grin and a drawl: “Well – look what the cat dragged in.” Unable to keep from glancing at the clock, he added, “You took a while; I wasn’t sure you were coming tonight.”

Roxas smiled crookedly. “…Were you worried about me?”

The kid was too astute. “I just – wondered how things were going,” Axel casually replied.

A warm crease at the corners of his eyes that told Axel he saw right through him, Roxas said, “I see.” He lifted his shoulders a little. “Everything’s fine. I got a locksmith out, so the locks are all changed, and I’ve got a guy coming tomorrow to look at the security system. Seems like my one can be bypassed with the right set of internet instructions.”

Axel hummed disapprovingly. “The internet?” How… pedestrian. A thought occurred to him. With a slight frown, he asked, “So where are you staying until the new system is in place? Don’t tell me you’re just winging it with the new locks…”

Roxas shook his head. “I’m sleeping at Hayner’s.” When a stiffness Axel hadn’t even acknowledged fell across his features, the kid rolled his eyes a little, alerting him to the fact that his face had changed. “And _Olette’s._ They’re taking me in for the night. It’s like going to stay at my grandparents’.”

Axel blinked, relaxing marginally. “Oh. Good.”

“Yeah.” Roxas then smiled, a gentle expression that whipped the butterflies back up, right when Axel’s gut had been starting to forget they were there. “So – hi.”

Axel swallowed. “…Hi. Did we not say – hi already?” The smile growing, Roxas silently shook his head. “Oh,” Axel faintly mumbled. Then, “Hi.”

The blond chuckled a little, and slipped his ID into the metal tray for Axel to drag across. “I think we’ve got it covered now.” As Axel registered him in the system, Roxas drummed his fingers on his thighs, seeming to work himself up to something. After a pause, he started up, “Look, I just wanted to say something that I didn’t really get a chance to last night, or this morning.”

Axel’s gaze darted over to him, taking in his somewhat nervous expression. His chest tightening, he gave a strained, “Oh?”

Roxas bobbed his head, a hint of shyness coming over him. “Well, it’s just that – I had fun. I didn’t get to tell you that. You put in a lot of effort that I hadn’t expected, and I know things got kind of… side-tracked for a while there…” He glanced up and down the hallway, making sure there was no one around to listen in. “What with all the – you know…”

Axel nodded to signify that yes, yes indeed, he did know.

Roxas shrugged, taking a deep breath and sighing it out, a rueful smile in place now. “I guess I just wanted you to know that before that – and after that – I had a really good time.” He fidgeted a little, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “And I don’t want you to think that that’s the norm for me. It seems lately like everything to do with – that – has worked into a bit of a fever pitch, and it’s like my life is _consumed_ by dealing with those guys…” Again, he couldn’t help but check his surroundings, ultimately cautious of being overheard. When he met Axel’s gaze again, he went on, a little helplessly, “It’s not usually like this. I don’t want you to think that this is what my life is like.”

Oh, hell. The kid was anxious – that’s what this was. He had been worrying that Axel would get turned off him by all the weird shit. He had obviously been _thinking_ about this, maybe all day, and had worked himself up to come out with this little spiel – which, now that Axel was paying attention, seemed like it might have been rehearsed in his head beforehand.

He remembered Roxas telling him that he cared about him, too, and felt his insides turn a nauseating combination of tingly and cold. Dealing with this was – gruelling. Maybe this was his chance, though: maybe he could seize the opportunity being presented and just… back off. Act like maybe having to grapple with all of Roxas’ shit was too much work, claim that he had really only been looking for a bit of fun rather than the oddly intense experience this had all become.

That would be smart – that would be _such_ a smart thing to do. He could find other ways to get to Roxas, even with his newly beefed up home security. Axel could deal with the silver-haired trio once had all the information he needed, and then just leave Roxas completely the hell alone until the moment of the hit. Everything would be neat and tidy again – just a guy doing a job, and then moving on.

He inhaled, mouth working to find the words, his brain insisting that this was his big moment to finally put things back on their right track. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would have said, though, because Roxas continued without expecting a response, all of this cogitating on Axel’s part having happened lightning quick, the pieces coming together to form a solution that he’d have been a fool to resist. 

“What I was _thinking,”_ Roxas went on, “was that maybe we could try all that again, minus the freaky shit.” There was a sense of hesitation to his manner, combined with a certain hopefulness in those bright, blue eyes that caused all sense of logic to freeze up in Axel’s otherwise intelligent brain. Whatever he’d been poised to say became lost as he realised that the kid was asking him out. “Maybe dinner, at my place? Next Sunday?” Roxas offered.

Axel distantly, brain and tongue for the moment disconnected, heard himself say, “…Sure.”

Well. So much for that. On top of everything else, he had now become a self-judged fool.

The grin that spread across Roxas’ face, however, slow and pleased, told him that being a fool possibly wasn’t such a bad thing in the short-term. One look at that expression weakened him at the knees, making him infinitely glad he was sitting down.

“Great. I’m glad. And this time –”

“This time, no knives in the ass,” Axel cut in.

“Unless that’s what you’re into,” the kid replied with a wink. Axel let out a loud, brittle laugh, returning Roxas’ ID through the window. There was a rattle, Roxas peering in to find a couple of sea-salt candies that Axel had automatically slipped in. With a chuckle, the blond picked them out and tucked them away. “And here I thought these might end with your successful conquering of my innocence.” He regarded Axel warmly through the glass, hands in the pockets of his baggy hoodie. “But you’re not like that. I thought at first you might have been,” he conceded, referring to their early difficulties, “but I feel like I know you better than that now. I’m just glad you didn’t just decide I was a hopeless case and write me off.”

Axel’s heart turned into jagged-edged stone.

Roxas smiled, ducked his head a little bashfully, and, without waiting for the redhead to muster up an answer, moved on.

He called back, “Don’t forget the elevator!”

Axel reached out and pressed the orange button, and heard a soft laugh drift along the corridor as the buzz sounded out. The grating rattle of the elevator descending vibrated along the corridor, Roxas within it, a black and white image on a screen. Then a minute later, he was out of sight.

The next person to come along found Axel with his head in his hands, looking like he’d been sitting like that for a while. He buzzed them through, barely noticing who it was, just glad that for once it wasn’t Ansem, who would undoubtedly have berated him for being so inattentive.

This was getting… harder. More than that, it was getting more confusing by the day. For the first time… Axel was on the edge of questioning _why_ it was that someone had to die, which was the sort of thing a paid assassin was ill-advised to consider.

Dragging his hands across his face, he stared through his fingers at the desk, wondering how much longer he would need to keep this up. It was draining him of all his energy – this job was becoming positively vampiric. Could he, after all this, just make the hit and go home? Put his feet up? Watch a movie and laugh out loud, a king of not only the world, but of time?

His confidence, such as it was anymore, and the feeble control he had managed to wrest back from the void were shaken.

The night passed with Axel fighting to keep his agitated mind sufficiently occupied. The regular boredom was tangled with thoughts of Roxas, the pressures of the job, memories of last night, and, as the early hours rolled around, flashes of _this_ _time_ last night, when he and Roxas had been in his own goddamn bed. He could see and hear and _smell_ it all so clearly in his head. His flesh responded, a longing sweeping through him that he had to force away, with no relief existing within the glass, metal and concrete of this guards’ cage.

What he really needed right now was a sustained period of aloneness – time to himself, consisting of _only_ himself, no Roxas in sight, nothing to make him second-guess things, nothing that made him struggle. He needed life simplified, so that he could think _clearly_ again, which was something he was rapidly losing his ability to do. Basically, he needed booze, and lots of it. He needed to get hammered to the point of vomiting all this uncertainty away, leaving him scraped raw and ready to inflict damage on the universe.

When the night finally ended, researchers trickling by, he once again found that Roxas was back in front of him. The blond appeared at the window, a furtive air about him as he asked, “Hey, is there anyone else around right now?”

Axel blinked tiredly, looked at the monitors, answered, “No – Fuu and Lucrecia just left the parking lot. I don’t know about anyone coming up, though, I can’t see the lab.”

“That should be fine.” Roxas vanished, and a second later there was a knocking at the door. Bewildered, Axel hesitated, then eased up from his chair and went to unlock it. Roxas stood waiting expectantly on the other side, and, for his efforts, reached up and tugged him down for a kiss that tasted both salty and sweet.

The kid wasted no time, apparently aware that this wasn’t the sort of thing to get caught doing. Ansem hadn’t yet left the building – if he stumbled across the two of them like this, he was likely to swallow his tongue and possibly fire the redhead on the spot. But despite this… Axel couldn’t fight it. He kissed back without thinking twice, his body on auto-pilot when it came to Roxas, all action and no consideration, not a shred of a care about how tormented he was going to be about this later. There was just something about the blond that flipped a switch in Axel, evoking a heat that reached right through skin and muscle and bone and gripped him before he even knew it was there. And the flavour…

So this was what those candies tasted like.

The kiss was short, but intense, all delving tongues and a sense of brief intoxication. They parted with a gasp, Axel gazing dizzily at Roxas, who stared up into his eyes with another of those amazingly slow grins. The way it spread across his face was like dawn breaking. “A reward,” the kid whispered, “for all the candy.”

Throat bobbing as he swallowed, Axel muttered back, “I need to buy more candy.”

Roxas laughed softly, pressed another salty-sweet kiss against Axel’s mouth – and then was gone.

Axel was left reeling in the doorway, until he realised he could hear the elevator somewhere in the background, heading back down to the lab. He heaved a shuddering sigh, holding himself steady in the doorway for a moment, trying to collect his strength. Before whoever it was could reach the corridor, he closed the door again and locked it, returning dazedly to his seat. His eyes found the set of monitors, Roxas’ slender form crossing to his car, and there was a – a _bounce_ to his step that Axel knew had everything to do with _him._

Belle went by, a pleasant smile on her face as she bid, “Good night.”

Axel’s voice was hoarse as he mumbled the same back to her. If she gave him a weird look because of it, he didn’t notice.

The taste of sea-salt and sugar lingered on his tongue, sending occasional tremors through his flesh. Roxas was… a bold one. And why not? A kiss didn’t compare to sex. They had already done so much. But it was… unexpected. All this affection the kid had to give – Axel… didn’t deserve it.

He didn’t deserve it, but craved it anyway.

_Oh, boy, Axel._

He was in a fine, fine pickle, entirely of his own creation. He should have hated himself – should have corrected himself – should have set himself straight and made all this go away…

But all he tasted was the candy, and a swelling ache for Sunday.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

On his way home that night, Axel stopped by the liquor store and stocked up. He then proceeded to, as daylight broke and spread its claws across the city, get steadily drunk, then drunker.

He sat on the beaten, stained couch of his apartment, impassively watching the crawling progress of the ShinRa hack on his laptop while downing one shot after another of high-grade vodka. He drank until the screen blurred; he drank until his legs stopped working; he drank, and he drank, but at no point would Roxas leave him be. The whole night, he was nagged by the kid. Being hammered did little more than free up the inhibitions surrounding the thoughts of him, leaving Axel open to various revelations he had been struggling to suppress.

At some point he fell asleep – or unconscious, he supposed – and when he next opened his scratchy, heavy eyes, it was nearly evening.

It was… it was nearly evening.

It took a moment – a long one – but then realisation struck, and he was on his feet, staggering around the apartment in search of his car keys. He eventually fished them out from behind one of the couch cushions, then barely paused to lock up before he was lunging up to the street two stairs at a time, throwing himself behind the wheel of his car, lurching away from the curb and speeding off to get to the Research Committee building.

By the time he had got upstairs to change into his uniform, then down to the laboratory corridor, there were already several of the researchers waiting, Roxas among them. They formed a restless, milling group outside the locked-up guard station, which turned as a single entity to stare as he came loping frantically along the concrete passageway.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he chanted, stumbling through their midst and fumbling to unlock the door.

“Axel…” It was Lucrecia whose disappointed, dubious tone reached him. “If Professor Ansem were here, you would be in a world of trouble.”

He couldn’t help but feel a burst of relief that temporarily dispelled the fog surrounding his leaden head. He turned to the group, eyes wide and desperate. “Please – please don’t tell him I was late. I swear, it won’t happen again.” He touched his forehead to the cold metal of the door. “I can’t handle that guy lecturing me right now.”

Disapprovingly, Lucrecia advised, “Then perhaps don’t do things that require lectures.” As Axel turned his haggard face hopelessly towards her, she sighed, softening somewhat. “…However, as this is your first offense, we’ll let it slide. Just, for God’s sake, get in there and get us through before he _does_ turn up – and don’t do it again, Axel.”

Nodding fervently, he slipped into the guard station and shut the door, the window’s metal cover rattling as he quickly unlocked it and shoved it upward. Flicking on the monitors, his gaze darted swiftly through at the different feeds, luck once again on his side with no sight of Ansem. He pushed out the drawer, everyone putting their ID cards in at once, Axel rapidly registering each of them in the system. He could only glance and shrug helplessly at Roxas, who watched him curiously from the back of the group.

Once the ID’s were all done, he slid them back, and the gaggle of scientists was off, hoping to get established before Ansem arrived – which, Axel noticed with a lurching stomach, the man just had. His dark car pulling into the parking lot, Axel thanked whatever gods were watching for the mercy of having managed to get in just in time. When Ansem eventually came past, Axel smiled and took his ID, trying to stop his hands from shaking, hoping that the sweat beading off his skin wasn’t visible.

As the man disappeared down towards the elevator, he finally sank with his head in his arms on the desk, taking a deep, fortifying breath to help stave off the nausea. That… had been a close one. If he’d had to endure Ansem’s attitude tonight, he’d have either thrown up, attacked the man, or possibly both. The sigh that left him was carried by a long groan. He was not okay. He was not at _all_ okay.

All of that, and for what? He hadn’t so much as escaped Roxas’ influence for an hour, unless one counted the period of unconsciousness, which Axel absolutely did not. This had been one almighty swing and a miss, and he was, as usual, an idiot. Being an idiot was not a pastime he generally indulged in with quite this level of frequency. Once again, it all came down to Roxas; or, to be brutally honest, Axel’s responses to Roxas. The kid had no idea he was having this effect – it was far from deliberate on his part – so in the end, the only one he had to blame was himself.

“I fucking hate you, Axel,” he mumbled into his arms. Every throbbing, miserable inch of his body emphatically agreed with the sentiment.

This obviously wasn’t working out. He needed to come up with a different approach to the situation, before he half-killed himself with all the uncertainty and futile attempts to stave it off. Ideally, the purest solution would be to kill Roxas as soon as possible, but that just wasn’t viable. He had to stop fantasising about that one, since all it did was frustrate him.

So, what else was there? He’d had his chance last night to step back from the kid, and it hadn’t panned out. His body kept responding in direct revolt against his brain, which, if he was really frank with himself, wasn’t doing such a bang-up job of resisting Roxas, either.

Maybe it was high time that he accepted what he’d already, in the heat of the moment, admitted to: that he liked Roxas. He had… weird, jumbled feelings for him, but they were feelings, nonetheless, and denying them was officially getting him nowhere. All he’d managed to achieve was a blistering hang-over. Surely there was another way to _handle_ this. If death and denial were off the table, what was left?

…Well, really, he already knew damn well what was left. He was just approaching it in a reluctant, roundabout way because it was so fucking wrong. Was it _his_ fault that his cultivated closeness to the target had become something a little bit, maddeningly genuine? No – you know what, if it was anyone’s fault, it was Reno’s. If he hadn’t been such an under-informed prick, Axel would never have been driven to these measures, and now here he was, grappling with it all, as much a victim – yes, a victim – as anyone in all this. It was Reno who was the bad guy, not Axel.

A thought slowly occurred to him, as he settled his chin on his forearms and gazed blearily through the window into the empty hallway. Perhaps his biggest mistake in all this… was _fighting_ these feelings. He hadn’t expected to like the kid as much as he did, and that had caught him off-guard. The sex with Roxas had felt so right, and so real, and that had bothered him, because he’d never had to bump off anyone he actually gave a damn about before.

But! _If_ he just gave in, _if_ he just went with it, stopped fighting so goddamn hard and let things take their natural course – perhaps the torment would stop. He was, what, four weeks in? That still left the better part of two months ahead of him to get this out of his system. Axel’s version of a relationship was some hard, fast fucking, spoiling the other person for a while, then getting so bored with them after a few weeks that he couldn’t figure out what had drawn him in in the first place. He had time to let that happen in this job. It didn’t seem like the Cornerstone Project was close to completion, and he hadn’t detected any hint from Roxas that he was close to whatever his contribution to it all was. He had the magic rock, sure, but he didn’t know what he was _doing_ with it, as such. There was no breakthrough on the horizon.

So… Axel could theoretically do this. He could just let it happen – lose himself for a while in Roxas, and then at the end of it quite happily put that bullet in his brain, because who even cared anymore?

It was actually crazy enough to work.

He perked up slightly, some of the nausea dissipating. He hadn’t realised it until right this second, but a _lot_ of tension had been building up in him over this. Having reached a decision – a favourable one, no less – made a good portion of it drop away like a cracked and crusty second skin sloughing off.

He was… allowed to like Roxas. He was allowed to get involved with him, no holds barred.

And, once all was said and done, he was allowed to kill him without batting an eyelid, and everything would be back to normal.

The release he felt was amazing. He sat up straight, still unwell from the hangover, but just so _light,_ like all the worries in the world had been resolved. He began to smile. He still had the entire night to get through feeling like twelve different kinds of shit, but at least at the end of it he’d get to see Roxas for a minute, with everything going so well between them, and that was enough to brighten his disposition for now.

Everything was going to be… just fine.

.o.O.o.

From Tuesday onwards, time slowed to a crawl, the irony of which was not lost on the wholly frustrated Axel. Now that the decision had been made to throw his lot in with Roxas for the moment, he wanted nothing more than to embark upon that and really get things going. However, with work being their only interaction until Sunday, he wasn’t getting terribly far on that front, and thus a new version of near-madness was experienced. On the Thursday night, he’d tried having one of the sea-salt candies, to transport himself back to their last kiss, but all it did was turn him rock hard beneath the desk, unwilling to relieve himself in the guard station. _That_ had been _torture._

However, as it is wont to do, time did continue on. Eventually, Saturday night did arrive, and with it, a tamped excitement. He and Roxas both knew, as they said good-night, that the next time they met would be at the blond’s bungalow. They also both knew, acutely, that it was going to result in more sex, and the anticipation was… palpable.

Sunday again rolled around, with Axel back in the bathroom of his crappy apartment, looking himself over in the mirror. This time, however, everything was different. He could feel it in the pounding in his chest, the flutter in his throat, the roiling of his stomach. He didn’t know which was stronger: his excitement, or his nervousness. This was going to be his first time actually genuinely trying to romance Roxas. Before, when it had all been part of the act, it was like he’d been – removed, somewhat, from the proceedings. It was a part he’d been playing. This time, it was all him. He was… invested in it, for once. He just… he couldn’t wait to see the blond. His palms weren’t usually this damp.

For the drive over to Roxas’, Axel hung his elbow out the open window, tapping an impatient rhythm on the side of the car whenever a red light halted him. It had taken him way too long to get to this point in time – every extra little delay felt like a personal affront. Roxas was _waiting_ for him, damn it!

And he was positively hungry to see Roxas.

Pulling up to the kid’s house, Axel’s eagerness reached its zenith, the breath catching in his throat at the sight of the place again all lit up, just for him. He was out of the car the second the engine cut, long legs taking him along the path, up the porch steps, knuckles sharp against the mottled-glass door. Roxas’ rippled form appeared on the other side, coming from what Axel recalled to be the kitchen. He was still wiping his hands on a dishcloth when he opened the door, a bright smile in place, words poised to welcome Axel in – all of it smothered away as the man swooped in, seized his face, and kissed him hard.

Caught off guard, Roxas blinked for a long moment without responding as Axel ravenously attacked his mouth. He tried to speak, muffled and stilted, first to say Axel’s name in a questioning fashion, then to mention something about whatever was cooking in the kitchen, but Axel simply wouldn’t let him. The initial extended kiss became a series of pecks, swallowing Roxas’ voice each time he attempted to speak, until the blond had no choice but to either pry him away, or kiss back.

Roxas chose the latter.

Apparently realising the futility of the situation, the kid seemed to shrug, then looped his arms over Axel’s shoulders and simply gave in. The rush of that moment was exhilarating – Axel moaned into Roxas’ mouth, grip tightening on the blond, who was now giving back as good as he got without hesitation. Their tongues tangled and danced, lips caressing, while Axel’s hands left Roxas’ face and travelled down to his hips, then his buttocks. He squeezed and massaged what he found, Roxas’ eyebrows shooting up, eyelids forcing open as he seemed to realise that Axel wasn’t about to leave things at just kissing.

“Um,” he panted, silenced against by Axel’s mouth, the man unwilling to hear whatever it was he had to say. _“Um!”_ Roxas insisted, managing to break away for air, Axel instead transferring his affections to the kid’s jaw and throat. He heard a breathy groan from Roxas and bared his teeth, scraping them lightly down the blond’s flesh, feeling him shudder in his grasp. “There – is – cooking – stovetop – there’s…” Roxas shivered, fingers tightening in Axel’s shirt. “Oh, shit,” he moaned, as Axel started sucking a section of his collarbone. Then, with some obviously scraped together firmness, he declared, “Stuff is cooking in the kitchen! Dinner! It’ll burn!”

Axel dragged his tongue in a long lick up Roxas’ neck, nibbling at his earlobe. “Then turn it the fuck off,” he breathed, “and show me to the bedroom.”

Roxas muttered, “Oh, my God.”

He tugged gently away from Axel, who let him go reluctantly, mollified only when the kid took his hand and led him along, first to the kitchen, where his free hand snapped off the stovetop elements under bubbling pots of white sauce and some pasta, then turned and marched them both upstairs. The structure of the bungalow meant that the upper level of the house was small, like a loft, devoted entirely to the bedroom, which was decorated in swathes of black, white, and red.

“Don’t complain to me if dinner sucks,” he warned, pulling Axel over towards the bed and turning around to face him.

“I promise,” Axel murmured, and with Roxas’ hands wrapping around the back of his neck, lowered into another kiss, deeper this time, less urgent now that he knew he wasn’t going to have to wait. He slowly sucked Roxas’ tongue into his mouth, eliciting small, breathy sounds from the blond as he played with it, brushing it almost ticklishly with his own. Roxas shuffled back until he hit the bed, Axel pressing him down onto the covers.

Hair all over the place, he blinked up at Axel. Green eyes containing a burning quality that made Roxas swallow thickly, Axel slowly climbed onto the bed over the blond’s prone form. He held himself up on hands and knees, looming over Roxas, who stared up wordlessly, apparently unable to muster anything intelligible right now. Axel, well acquainted with the feeling, enjoyed a moment of smugness at being the source of it for once, rather than the victim.

He smirked slightly, planted a kiss on Roxas’ willing mouth, then sat up and pulled off his shirt. With Roxas’ gaze firmly fixed upon him, Axel slowly reached down and unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans. Again, he saw Roxas swallow. There was a flush to the blond’s cheeks that was satisfying to witness. Roxas was becoming visibly aroused – and so he should. It was only right that they should match.

The kid’s hands rose up to touch him, sliding across his stomach, along his lean muscles, nails scraping down his ribcage. “You are… so damn sexy,” Roxas mumbled. “Ever since I saw you changing clothes that time…”

Axel leered, leaning over him, hands planted either side of his head. “Oh? Since then? So even when you didn’t like me, you were _lusting_ after me.”

Roxas gave his nipples a hard, reproving pinch, making his eyelids flutter and his hips squirm. “Don’t get cocky.” He then apologetically stroked the reddening nubs, expression softening. “Anyway, I like you now.”

Axel shivered, for more reason than just the physical stimulation, and met Roxas’ mouth in the most intense kiss yet. It lasted for time beyond measure, his fingers deep in Roxas’ hair, everything for the moment forgotten, even the idea of sex. He just – he couldn’t quite kiss Roxas enough, not ever. The way the kid responded so wholeheartedly, the way they became like a single entity, breathing the other in, melting together… it was a feeling he couldn’t put into words. It was beyond intoxicating – beyond consuming. It was more than anything he’d ever experienced before. He would drown in it if he could.

Roxas didn’t seem to be quite as content with mere kissing as Axel was, however – the redhead all but squeaked as, out of the blue, he felt a hot hand slide into his underwear and cup his stiffening member. He grunted, drawing back from Roxas, gazing blearily down into those blue eyes, which glittered back at him. He then let out a whispery moan as the blond started stroking him, an almost teasingly slow rhythm that explored the length and shape of his cock, encouraging him in no time at all to full arousal.

“You’re a lot more aggressive tonight,” Roxas faintly observed, pumping his erection more firmly now, watching the twitches in Axel’s expression. “You were eager for this, huh?”

“Are you kidding?” Axel growled. “I’ve been waiting all fuckin’ _week_ for this.”

Roxas rose up into the rough kiss that followed, continuing to stroke him until his loins ached. Before it could make him pop, he took hold of the kid’s wrist and detached the hand from his crotch, pinning it instead to the bed. Lips slightly red and swollen from the force and frequency of contact, Roxas looked up with a half-lidded gaze, trustingly submissive in Axel’s grasp – just waiting for whatever came next.

It was all he could do to not start kissing again.

Instead, to distract himself from the magnetic pull of Roxas’ mouth, he sat up a little, leaving the blond’s hand beside his head on the bed, and began unbuttoning Roxas’ shirt. The kid lay there and watched, body passive but jeans visibly fuller with his burgeoning erection. Maybe Axel hadn’t been the only one so eager for this.

When Roxas’ shirt came open, he spread it to either side of the blond’s slender body, exposing golden flesh that he couldn’t resist licking and nipping. He made his way in this fashion down Roxas’ faintly heaving torso to his jeans, undoing them while nibbling the flesh just above his open belt buckle. He could hear the blond’s breaths fluttering in the quiet air, becoming rapidly unsteady, and felt a thrill go through his flesh.

Once Roxas’ jeans were undone, he reached for the kid’s head, scooped a hand behind it and tugged him upright, sucking on the kid’s upper lip as he rid him of the useless fabric of his shirt. He felt Roxas’ hands crawl across his chest, groping and kneading, playing with his nipples, and grunted into his mouth. The lust, which had quietened with all the kissing, flared back up as Roxas panted into his face. One look at the glazed look in his eyes, the stain on his cheeks, the near-bruising of his lips, and Axel’s grasp on reason started slipping.

He grabbed the belt of Roxas’ jeans and flipped him onto his stomach, popping the blond’s hips up as he yanked and dragged his pants and underwear off. Roxas reached over to the nightstand beside the bed, fumbling inside the drawer before coming out with first some lube, which he tossed back to Axel, then a condom. Axel deftly caught the lube, uncapped it, then slid the condom beside his knee as Roxas settled back onto his knees. He squeezed out a liberal amount of the oily substance over one hand, rubbing it to spread it between his fingers, then began inserting them into Roxas one by one, priming him for entry.

Roxas gave small, hitching gasps and grunted noises of pleasure as Axel’s fingers penetrated and stretched him, hands grasping at the duvet, hips moving with the motion of the redhead’s digits. Axel forced himself once again to take his time with the preparation, ensuring that Roxas was slick and loose enough for him, not wanting to hurt the kid for even a second.

Once he was sure that he was ready, however, he didn’t hesitate.

The condom applied in a hurry, he grabbed Roxas’ hips, lined himself up, and thrust inside with almost a single, fluid motion. Roxas cried out sharply, half from surprise, half from sensation, while Axel let out a long, deep groan at finally being back inside him. He took a moment to allow Roxas to grow accustomed to his girth, then gave a few, experimental thrusts, feeling the body beneath his shudder. He saw Roxas’ facial muscles contract, mouth falling open, eyes sliding shut, and started thrusting in earnest.

The slap of flesh and gasp of breaths were all that were audible for a while, Axel with his jeans around his thighs, having not even bothered to dispense with them before entering, gripping Roxas tight enough to leave marks behind. The blond shook beneath him, hips rising to meet his every pump, fingers clutching the covers tightly. As the sweat began to build up across their bodies, their voices started to grunt into being, first Roxas’, then Axel’s.

Staring down at Roxas, letting out the occasional moan as the blond’s insides tightened around him, Axel felt like he could happily die right here. There was no version of heaven that could outstrip this feeling, this intense pleasure that sparked through him with every thrust of his cock inside this one person.

He saw one of Roxas’ hands disappear beneath them to grasp his own erection and start stroking, Axel shifting position to allow him more space, nudging his knees forward and draping himself over the blond’s back, making Roxas’ spine arch as he entered from this slightly new angle, deeper than before. Roxas shuddered and groaned, Axel holding him tightly, skin to skin, rhythm hard and constant. He felt the kid’s arm bump him from time to time as he jerked himself, the frequency increasing along with his voice, which came in longer and louder exclamations the harder Axel fucked him.

Gradually, Axel felt his climax approaching, with a combination of anticipation and frustration. He didn’t want it to end yet, damn it, but oh, _God,_ he needed to come. Judging by the noises Roxas was making, he was sure the blond felt the same way. Well, if he couldn’t make it last longer, then he would at least make it so they went out with a bang.

Wrapping his arms around Roxas’ middle, he sat back on his heels, pulling the blond with him, and started thrusting up with renewed vigour. Roxas whimpered a strangled, “Oh, God,” and matched the new pace and position, while Axel grunted into his bare shoulder. One hand moving down, he knocked Roxas’ out of the way and took hold of the blond’s cock, pumping in time with the pistoning of his hips, listening to the kid’s voice rise higher, becoming more frantic. Roxas scrambled for a moment for somewhere to put his hands, settling at last on the arm wound around his middle, clutching Axel tight enough to leave grooves in his skin from his fingernails.

With a flurry of cries and moans, they reached orgasm, Axel coming hard inside Roxas while the blond spurted helplessly onto the bed. With a groan that lasted for an entire, long exhalation, Axel held him tightly, feeling the heat of his ejaculation gather in the condom, electrical shudders passing through him, one after another.

When he eventually released Roxas, the blond all but folded onto the bed, breathing hard, utterly spent. Axel withdrew from him, climbed slowly off the bed, clutching his jeans, and went in search of a bathroom, discovering one after his second try and disposing of the condom before shuffling back upstairs.

Roxas lay on his side looking pleasantly worn out, the perspiration still shining on his bare skin. Axel flopped onto the bed beside him, drawing the blond’s weary gaze over, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “Hey, there.”

In lieu of answering, Axel pressed their lips together, looping an arm over the kid and taking his sweet time indulging in all the kisses he desired. Roxas welcomed him with a smile, the hot sweat of sex cooling as they exchanged kiss after kiss, slowly and deeply.

At length, Roxas shyly drew away, needing some air, burying half his face into the pillow, with his single, visible eye watching Axel in the dim light from downstairs. “You keep on surprising me,” he said softly. “Here I thought we’d have a normal dinner date, and you go and jump me at the front door.” He smirked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Axel stroked his shoulder, unable to quite completely leave the kid alone. “You drive me a little bit crazy,” he admitted, at which Roxas planted his face into the pillow and laughed.

When he turned back to face Axel, it was with a broad, satisfied grin. “Well, I can’t deny that I like that.”

“Hmmmm.” Axel shifted closer, reaching up to play with his hair now. “You have a man’s sanity in the palm of your hand. Can you handle that, Roxas?”

The kid regarded him fondly, resting his cheek on his hand. “I think I can manage.” This time, it was he who stretched over for a kiss, Axel’s palm settling on the back of his sweat-dampened head, holding him close.

Eventually, however, as sweet as it was simply lying in bed making out with Roxas to his heart’s content, Axel became aware of a base need he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. It nagged at him until he sighed, pulling back from the blond, looking into questioning blue eyes and sheepishly asking, “So – what was that about dinner sucking?”

Roxas chuckled understandingly. “Let me get dressed and I’ll demonstrate.”

Axel made a face, letting out a noise of complaint. A knuckle grazing the kid’s face, he asked, “Do you _have_ to? I kinda like you in the nude.”

Eyes rolling, Roxas asked, “How about pants? Can I put on pants?” He kicked Axel with a toe. “You never even took yours off.”

“I can,” Axel offered wickedly, “if that’s what you want.”

Roxas got close to him, noses touching, and breathed, “You’re like some dirty old man, aren’t you?” Before Axel could respond – the heat automatically starting to rise again in his flesh, just at Roxas’ changed tone and renewed proximity – the kid rolled away, slipping out of bed and snatching his jeans from the ground. He was in them before Axel could protest, zipping up and smirking over his shoulder at the disappointment on his features. “Call me old-fashioned,” Roxas drawled, “but I don’t much like being around hot things with my dick hanging out.” He then held up a hand sharply as Axel opened his mouth, cutting him off with, _“Don’t –_ respond to that. Thank you. I… just realised what I said.”

Axel grinned, as Roxas moved over to the staircase, looking only slightly uncomfortable with each step. He listened to the blond pad downstairs, and a minute later heard the clatter of kitchenware as he resumed dinner. Once he was sure Roxas was occupied, Axel rolled off the bed and went to the window, gazing out at the yard, scanning for unwanted visitors.

When it appeared that nothing was amiss, he quietly descended the stairs, using the time to make a sweep of the house and check that there had been no unlawful entry while they’d been occupied, while at the same time taking note of the new kind of locks Roxas had. They were better than the last ones, and he’d had a couple of deadbolts installed at the same time; that would make it difficult if Axel ever needed to enter surreptitiously. Even the windows were secure – to break in, one would need to literally _break_ in, which would in turn set off the alarm.

He sighed a little. Well, at least Roxas would be safe for now. That was what mattered.

“Axel?” Roxas had come in search of him, silent due to his bare feet. He gazed inquiringly at the redhead from the base of the stairs as Axel reappeared from the laundry room, where the back door resided.

“Just checking out your new hardware,” the man easily confessed. No reason to lie about it. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, back the way he’d come. “It’s looking good. I don’t see anyone sneaking in any time soon.”

Pleased, Roxas nodded. “That’s what the alarm system guy told me.” He laughed a little. “I had to make sure it was completely secure, or none of my friends would let me come home again.”

Axel smiled a little. Roxas evidently had a lot of people that cared about him.

They were all going to be very sad when he was dead.

Banishing such a thought, unwanted at this point in time, he sauntered to where Roxas stood and trailed a finger down his shoulder. The kid seemed to make an effort to not shiver. Having the two of them shirtless like this made it a little hard to remain focused. “Dinner won’t be long,” Roxas huskily said, staring dimly at Axel’s lips. “It was nearly ready when you got here. I just have to reheat the sauce… the pasta kept cooking on its own, so…” He trailed off, seeming dazed for a moment, then abruptly blinked, snapping back to himself, and dragged his gaze up to the redhead’s eyes. “So, considering how informal this all is, wanna watch TV while we eat?”

Axel snuffed a laugh. “Sure. Sounds more our style than any of the traditional stuff.”

“I think traditional went out the window a long time ago,” Roxas agreed, returning to the kitchen to finish up the food. “Just take a seat in the den,” he called out. Axel did as requested, finding himself back in the room he’d seen Roxas nearly strangled to death in, the desk chair back in its place, looking innocently like it hadn’t been used a week ago to try and dislocate someone’s shoulder.

He found the remote for the television and switched it on, finding some trashy reality show to have going mindlessly in the background. He then sat himself on the couch, a damn sight more comfortable than his own, and, levering his shoes off, propped his feet up on the coffee table.

Roxas appeared after ten minutes or so with a steaming bowl in each hand and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Axel received his pasta, holding an arm out for Roxas to slip under, the kid tossing the blanket over their knees, doubtless to keep them warm with the lack of shirts.

They then proceeded to simply… eat and talk, and watch TV. It was basic, and kind of nice. There was a lack of complication to Roxas’ personality that made it extremely easy to be around him for elongated periods of time, which was more than could be said for most people. Axel felt completely comfortable with him, and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Roxas seemed relaxed, at ease, leaning into Axel as they ate.

Once they’d finished eating, they chatted for a while before it again became about kissing. Hands roamed, exploring under the blanket, a groping free-for-all that soon had them gasping. They had sex right there in front of the TV, this time without a condom, Roxas grunting as Axel came inside him.

It was bliss, from start to finish. Axel couldn’t remember the last time the world had felt this _right._ The best part was, he could enjoy it for up to two months. By that point, he was certain he could detach from Roxas and do the job like he was supposed to.

However, right now, with the blond panting softly on his lap, he was glad that it wasn’t something he had to face any time particularly soon. For the moment, he would continue like this. The issue of the kill was a matter for future Axel – a man that current Axel didn’t even have to think about. If he separated them in his mind, made it as though the current Axel was the one who worked at the Research Committee building, and the future Axel was the cold, hardened killer, and the two were mutually exclusive… then he was sure it would make things easier.

When the time came for him to become the killer, he would slide into it as surely as changing clothes, abandoning these emotions to Axel Drake and leaving him for dead as surely as he would with Roxas.

Perhaps it wasn’t much of a plan, but it worked for what he wanted right here, right now – and with Roxas grinning at him a mere inch away, bumping their noses together and being unfailingly amazing, ‘right here, right now’ was all that mattered.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Sleepily blinking, green eyes gazed up at a ceiling that was significantly lacking in mould spots and water damage. Axel took a slow moment to recall where he was, body pleasantly boneless and warm, right arm numb from the shoulder. Turning his head on the pillow, he found himself almost nose to nose with Roxas, who continued to placidly slumber on. The kid was huddled against him, expressionless in sleep, his head heavier than it looked as it pressed into Axel’s arm, cutting off the blood flow.

A swell of softness filled Axel’s chest, which warmed to match the sensation of the sun on his skin, spilling into the room through the window’s parted curtains. He breathed in slowly, practically tasting the scent of Roxas’  hair, releasing a sigh that was… curiously happy. Never mind the fact that if anyone at the Organisation knew he was getting this involved with the target he would get his ass handed to him on a platter – such fraternisation was frowned upon when it wasn’t a honey-pot lure after which the assassin intended to kill the target in their post-coital haze. Right now, Axel couldn’t muster up the energy to give too many shits, however. This was – nice. And it wasn’t like it was a permanent arrangement, he knew _that_ better than anyone – but that just meant that while he was indulging in it, he might as well feel good about it. Right? And lying here, looking at Roxas’  sleeping face, the two of them having spent the night and half the day together, most of it in bed… that felt _really_ good.

He rolled onto his side a little, trying to make things easier on his shoulder, attempting to move his hand but absolutely unable to feel if it was twitching like he wanted it to. Although he hadn’t intended for it to happen, he felt an automatic thrill as his shifting caused Roxas to stir. For a moment, he was uncertain as to whether or not the kid was going to drift back off… but then, gradually, Roxas’ heavy eyelids fluttered, opened, and he stared blearily into Axel’s eyes. “…Hi,” he mumbled, voice husky from sleep.

Axel smiled. “Hi.”

Roxas’ eyes rolled slightly as he struggled to focus, still half-submerged in slumber. Frowning, he lifted a hand and swung it clumsily at his face, missing the first time, connecting the second time, probably harder than he’d meant to considering all he was trying to do was rub his eyes. He nearly elbowed Axel in the throat. The redhead filed away, without thinking, the tiny fact that Roxas was a heavy sleeper who was slow to wake, which would be a good time to try to take him out without a fight.

Faintly unsettled by this, he forced his mind away from such topics, instead smirking and remarking, “You look like you could use another few hours.”

“Urgh,” Roxas grunted, legs stretching out along the bed, confusion briefly playing across his features as he realised his pillow wasn’t a pillow so much as it was an arm. He patted it, squeezed it, Axel only dimly able to feel it.

“I don’t suppose I can claim that back, can I?” he asked, grinning at the struggle on Roxas’ face as the kid attempted to comprehend what he was saying.

 _“Ugh,”_ Roxas responded, Axel unable to tell what that _precisely_ translated to until the blond, with a mustering of effort, rolled away. His arm released, Axel sat up and started massaging some life back into the dead limb, watching with amusement as Roxas, on his stomach now, pressed his face briefly into the pillow.

“Don’t smother,” Axel advised. “All right?”

He heard an elongated sound come out from the pillow, muffled and faintly whining. Turning his head to expose one eye from the pillow’s depths, Roxas, apparently starting to gain some alertness, hoarsely accused, “Whose fault do you think it is that I’m this worn out?”

Leering, Axel leaned down over him, voice low and smooth as he replied, “The same guy who’d do it all again, given half a chance.”

Roxas’ visible eye widened slightly, the pupil dilating. Axel’s tone had aroused him somewhat, even in his sleep-drenched state. But before Axel could seal the deal with a kiss and do exactly what he’d promised he would – that whole ‘half a chance’ thing – Roxas asked, “What time is it?”

Squinting, Axel lifted himself and glanced around until he spotted a clock on the wall. “Uh – quarter past two.”

…Shit.

He sighed, knowing exactly what that meant. The kid had thought through the aspect that he had not: they had work in a few hours. Not that it was beyond _Axel’s_ ability to absolutely have a good time between now and having to hurry home to get ready for the night ahead, but Roxas was the one who’d need the luxury of moving slowly, the one whose body had been all used up. Axel reminded himself, a little glumly, that Roxas’ times with him had been the first in around a year or so – so his body was going to take a while to adjust to such rigorous evenings.

Roxas, noticing the disappointment in Axel’s expression, smiled a little. Rolling onto his side, he turned his face up to Axel and invited, “C’mere.”

Brightening, Axel did as he was told, and was met with a long, sleepy kiss. He felt Roxas’ hand weave itself into his hair, gently scratching along his scalp in a gradual, massaging motion, and shivered in response. He then stiffened, pulled away with a _pop_ of sealed lips, and groaned, “Oh, God – wait – ahhh…!” As Roxas lay there looking distinctly ruffled, bewilderment plain on his face, Axel grabbed his shoulder, hissed through his teeth, and grunted, “Pins and needles! Gah, _hell,_ oh, man. Blood’s returned to my arm.”

Roxas grinned, then started to laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Your head is like an _anvil,”_ Axel complained.

“Well, I won’t sleep on you again, then,” the blond replied, eyes twinkling.

Axel answered, without missing a beat, “Now, let’s not get too hasty.”

Continuing to laugh – properly awake now – Roxas sat and slipped his feet from the bed, grabbing last night’s jeans from the floor and tugging them on. “Okay, you,” he said, turning to the pouting Axel and jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “out of my bed. We’ve got a night of super fun work to get ready for. I have research to do, and I’m sure the pages of that crusty, revolting porn mag are just aching for your tender touch.”

“The porn mag and I are taking a break,” Axel informed him, still holding his tingling arm in an injured fashion. “I’m saving all my tender touches and crustifying fluids for _you_ now.”

Roxas paused in the middle of pulling on a shirt, turning to stare at Axel, hovering somewhere between disbelief and vast, vast amusement. “…That was disgusting. And yet, somehow…” He shook his head in bemusement, wondering, “Is this what’s going to pass for romance between us?”

Axel crossed his legs, leaning forward, propping his chin on one palm. “Well, that depends. Is this a romance?”

Roxas cocked his head, finished buttoning his shirt, and placed his hands on his hips. He studied Axel for a minute, seeming to appraise the sincerity of his question, obviously wondering if they were still just joking around. Axel gazed at him steadily, not quite deadpan serious, but neither looking like he might burst out laughing at the answer. He hadn’t really meant it all _that_ seriously, he supposed – it had sort of slipped out – but now that Roxas was considering it, he wanted to know the answer.

He really, really wanted to know.

Approaching the bed slowly, Roxas crooked a finger at him, Axel instantly shifting across the bed, the sheets dragging along with him as they bunched around his waist. He swung himself to the edge of the mattress, right in front of the blond, looking up into his face. Roxas hesitantly touched him, first a spike of red hair that he trailed his fingers along, then one of the tattoos under Axel’s eyes. “I could see this being… a romance,” the blond cautiously said.

“Oh, yeah?” Axel murmured, a merriness starting to gleam unknowingly from his features. “You and me, huh?”

“Is that what _you_ want? You were pursuing me pretty hard from the start, there. Me and Pence just figured you wanted in my pants.”

Axel dryly said, “I heard about that.” He reached up, placing a broad hand on either side of Roxas’ hips, gazing up into his eyes with a crooked smile. “But that wasn’t my intention. Really. All I wanted… was to get close to you.” It was the rings of truth amongst the lies that made him so good at what he did. He wasn’t being dishonest in admitting that much – and it served to cover up the fact that he’d had little personal interest in Roxas in the beginning. He couldn’t have the blond picking up on that, however, and Roxas was smart and perceptive enough that, under other circumstances, he might have. But again, it was that ring of truth that made him so convincing. All he’d wanted, all along, was to get close to Roxas. That the reasons behind that had morphed between then and now, well… Roxas didn’t need to know that much. Nobody needed to know.

Roxas started to smile. “Oh, yeah?” he said, an echo of Axel’s previous words. He lowered himself to place their lips tenderly together, Axel responding gently to the touch. It wasn’t the longest of kisses, or the most impassioned, but it was – binding, almost. An agreement between the two of them, an admission that this was what each of them wanted.

It left Axel breathless.

Once they had separated, Roxas tucked some loose strands of blond behind his ear, looking down at Axel with a fondness that hadn’t been quite so evident before. “Okay. Time to get up. I’ll make you breakfast before I kick you out, okay?”

“Okay.” Axel’s head was fuzzy. He couldn’t think of anything witty to respond with right away. ‘Okay’ would have to do it. As Roxas walked away and headed downstairs, Axel swallowed. His chest was pounding. His nerve endings were singing. He felt – dizzy, sort of. Under other circumstances, he’d have wondered if he’d been slipped something, but all he knew was that it was from being around Roxas. How he simply knew it instinctively was something of a mystery, because no one else had done _this_ to him before. This was new.

Gazing at the empty space where Roxas’ back had last been, Axel wondered why that was. Why it was that his fingers were trembling, just ever so slightly. Why there was a tightness in his throat.

He didn’t think he was ready, yet, for what the answer might be.

.o.O.o.

Fed and clothed, Axel exited Roxas’ bungalow, the blond standing at the doorway and watching him go, both men’s sets of lips tingling from their parting kiss. Axel climbed into his rental feeling damn near euphoric. He peered through the windshield at Roxas as he backed down the driveway, taking a moment to check for traffic before reversing onto the street. The warmth in his chest showed no signs of abating, the sensation gaining an electrical little jolt as he wondered if perhaps Roxas felt like this, too.

A _romance._ It was a traditional sort of word – old-fashioned, especially for Axel, who more often than not simply referred to his briefly tolerated partners as ‘fuck buddies’. Even the ones he’d fixated on for a while – it had never been like this. It had never _felt_ like this. And no one could ever called what they had with him a _romance._ Things had been referred to as roman- _tic,_ but it had never been the defining characteristic of the relationship in the way that he and Roxas had agreed on. But then, that was just like every encounter he had with Roxas, wasn’t it? If Axel had ever met anyone like him before in is life, he wouldn’t be finding the kid so bewitching.

He sighed heavily as he drove away, darting glances into the rear-view mirror, Roxas’ house vanishing all too soon, followed by his street, followed by his suburb. Eventually, it was just Axel again, alone with his thoughts on the highway. As he drove, the elated bubble that had swollen to fill him shrank and cooled. It was like he was leaving that side of himself behind with Roxas, and it – wasn’t the most pleasant of sensations. This form of dualism was hard to reconcile when he was on his own, knowing all too well what awaited them in the near future. When he was _with_ Roxas, he threw it all away without a care or a second thought, and was happy in doing so. Without Roxas, however… he knew more who he was. What he was here for. And that part of him that was perfectly content with embarking on a _romance_ with the cute, clever, feisty, blue-eyed blond found itself at odds with the part that was nothing more or less than a killer. He could be a killer and still feel, he wasn’t _dead_ inside or anything close to it, but – a killer who felt for the target was another animal entirely.

He sighed again, scowling slightly, scratching his head agitatedly and resting his elbow against the window. There was nothing he could do about this right now. He was just going to have to put up with it, because neither side of the conflict was going to back down. He wasn’t going to abandon this thing with Roxas – he had already decided as much, and wanted nothing more than to follow it through until it fizzled away. However, that also meant he had to put up with the discomfort for now of knowing what he’d someday do. There was no escaping it, he gloomily supposed. All he could do was wait for the point where he no longer cared either way.

By the time he got back to his apartment, he was in something of a foul mood, which was disappointing after how happily he had started the day. Slamming the car door and heading for the stairs down to his basement, he wouldn’t have been opposed to some punk trying to cause trouble on the sidewalk. A few good, meaty punches and a couple of bloodied faces would have been extremely satisfying right now. No such luck, however – he was forced to head downstairs with all that thrumming energy still firmly in place.

Axel’s apartment felt… cold, and vacant, compared to Roxas’ home. He stood at the entrance gazing aimlessly around the cramped main room, taking in the aged furniture, the dilapidated paint job, the overall dinginess of the place. He felt – dissatisfied. He had experienced warmth, companionship, good smells and interesting colours and designs; being here was like stepping from a vibrant world of colour into an unending monotone. It spoke of deeper differences between Axel Drake and Axel of the Organisation that he didn’t feel like dwelling on right now. He didn’t think it would be good for him to do so. Despite this, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was – in the wrong place. That this was not, in fact, what he wanted.

Dangerous ideas.

Shaking his head, Axel stalked to the bathroom and took a shower, figuring a good, hot steam might settle him down. He washed himself impassively, hoping to scrape off some of the restlessness that Roxas had birthed in his being. Emerging no better – although fresher, at least – he dried himself off and went to the bedroom to tug on a pair of sweatpants in the hour and a half or so he had until he needed to get ready for another night of work.

With a towel over his head, drying his hair slowly, Axel made his way to the sofa and sat, pale skin lit up by the afternoon sun coming in through the narrow window. His laptop was on the coffee table, exactly where he’d left it, lid down, quietly and tirelessly working away. He stared at it for a moment, almost having forgotten what it was there for. With one hand still pushing the towel through his hair, he lifted the laptop open with the other, angling the screen back to get a good look at the progress of the scan – only to stop, eyes gradually sharpening, at the sight of a box with the word _COMPLETE_ blinking at him.

He clicked on it, the box disappearing, replaced by another. Considering the narrow field of the search he’d input, the results were few, but they existed – and that was what mattered. That alone told him, first of all, that the silver-haired guys were in fact ShinRa. He felt a thrill of savage triumph. _Gotcha._ Shadowy and mysterious they may be, but also, on the ShinRa payroll for a not indecent sum of money. It was classified, but the Loz that Axel had looked for was indeed an employee, complete with an ID photograph in the system. The gormless guy gazed out of the screen, Axel’s eyes ticking to each point in his face, taking a good, long look.

This was not, however, paydirt. The results were too limited to allow him to make a move beyond recognising his enemy. It was a fantastic start, at least – after all, he now had the guy’s full name, date of birth, and banking details. Additionally, judging by the way Loz and the skinny guy had looked so alike, he was willing to bet they were brothers, which meant that he now had a _new_ parameter to use, to weed out any others that were in the system. Best of all, the program Axel was using hadn’t been detected. There was nothing in the summary that showed so much as a flicker of ShinRa attention as it had run.

Axel restarted the hunt, putting in Loz’s family name and, after a moment’s consideration, Roxas’. He had hesitated the first time because, despite his confidence, there had always been the risk that someone would catch him out, and he didn’t want them knowing that _he_ knew of any connection between Roxas, the silver-haired guys, and ShinRa. If they were tipped off, they’d cover their tracks so fast it’d be like nothing had existed in the first place. Now, however, having performed a highly successful search once already, Axel was ready to find out what the hell they were thinking when the subject of Roxas came up. He needed to know what those guys _wanted_ with him – it was imperative, now that he had the chance, that he discover what their ultimate intentions were.

It was a slow task, but necessary, and something he had the luxury of being patient with. Patience wasn’t his _forte,_ as such, but Axel knew well enough that this was one instance in which it would pay off handsomely, in the end. The more info he had on these jerks, the better. Nobody was going to lay a hand on Roxas while he was around.

They had hurt that kid for the last time, and even for that much, he was going to pay them back tenfold.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Going into work that night, Axel felt tingles of stomach-lurching excitement pulsing through him. It was almost bewildering how much he was looking forward to seeing Roxas again, just through some bullet-proof glass and maybe ogled at through the security cameras. Ordinarily, he kind of – dragged himself to work, far from anticipating the night ahead, what with the stretching hours of boredom and all. So far, nothing had even _happened_ at the Research Committee to really warrant his being there. Yeah, there was the Roxas stuff, the attacks and whatnot, but Ansem didn’t even _know_ about that. Axel was just there to pretty much swipe some ID cards and wish people a pleasant evening. It was, at the best of times, a frustrating waste of time.

Tonight, though… tonight was special. Tonight was the first time Axel was laying eyes on Roxas after having spent the night with him properly. Tonight was the first time encountering him again after they had admitted to embarking on a _romance._

Tonight, after the way he’d been feeling after leaving Roxas behind, Axel just – really needed to see him.

He got into the building a little earlier than usual, feeling kind of like he was making up for his extreme lateness last week. It felt good to be getting changed and into the office long before anyone, especially Lucrecia, arrived. He needed to prove that he was reliable. It wouldn’t do him any good slacking off and managing to piss off his allies in the place, never mind Ansem. He managed to narrowly dodge a Seifer encounter, the one downside to turning up while the day security was still firmly in place, and made his way downstairs.

The cement tunnel to the guard station was cool and silent, Axel’s steps echoing slightly as he walked. He reached the guard station, keys jingling quietly as he took them out and inserted one into the lock on the door. As he pushed the solid door open, another sound caught his attention, a low scraping. Blinking, he looked downward, and saw a large, yellow postal envelope on the floor, having been pushed most of the way under the door and dragged along as it had opened.

He stopped, head tilting, and stared for a long moment. He stuck his head into the office and glanced around, then stepped back into the hallway, gazing first one way, then the other. There was no one in sight. Not a breath that wasn’t his own. Still, his skin was prickling like he was being watched, all of a sudden.

Moving slowly, Axel stepped back into the office, picking up the envelope with all the care in the world. It didn’t _feel_ like it could contain any kind of explosive, but in his line of work, you never really could guarantee anything. He closed the door, locked it, and sat at the desk with the shutter down, turning the envelope cautiously in his hands, checking it for any identifying marks. It was certainly here deliberately, it had been _placed_ here, but whoever had sought to gain his attention by such means had neglected to leave their name and an ‘I love you’ on the outside.

Using his keys, Axel placed the envelope on the desk and slit it open, parting it with the utmost delicacy and peering within. There was a smaller envelope inside. He frowned, disliking such games, and slid it free. It was the size of a letter this time, white, once again with nothing to identify its leaver. He felt it, trying to discern its contents, able only to make out a few edges of what felt like card paper within. If it was another fucking envelope, like some stupid game of pass the parcel, he was going to get stabby on somebody’s face – just as soon as he figured out whose face to get stabby _on._

He opened the second envelope, and discovered within it… pictures. Photographs. Eyes narrowing, he tugged them out, slid them apart, and found himself looking at – himself.

Well. This was unexpected.

Eyebrows high, he spread the pictures out, each of them showing him in perfect clarity standing on Roxas’ front porch, kissing the breath out of the kid. They were dated with last night’s timestamp, each taken a few seconds apart, showing, like a time-lapse, Axel pushing his way inside Roxas’ house with the kid’s face clasped in his hands, their mouths pressed hungrily together. A grin spread itself across his face, razor sharp at the edges, as the final photograph showed him leaving the same house with today’s timestamp. _Well, well._ Someone had been spying, had they?

He opened the envelope a little wider, peering in. There was nothing else to accompany the pictures, no note, not so much as a how-do-you-do. Someone was evidently trying to send him a message, and the only freaks who hung around Roxas’ house enough to take pictures were the silver-haired guys. But what _was_ this?What message, exactly, were they trying to send?

It was almost entertaining. Whatever the explicit meaning of them, the intention behind them was to spook him – rattle him. He was being told, _shown,_ that others knew he was involved with Roxas, and that they were being watched. Not only that, but they had access to his guard station. He glanced at the blank security monitors, wondering if he could get a copy of the recent footage to check, although felt fairly certain nothing would show up. Not if these assholes knew even vaguely what they were doing.

He shuffled through the pictures one more time, then placed them neatly together and back inside the envelope. He pulled out the girlie magazine from beneath the desk, slid it in between the glossy pages, then sat back thoughtfully and considered his options. He was being threatened, that much he could be certain of. It was a feeble sort of threat, all things considered, but they hadn’t sent him this simply to commemorate the occasion of his getting into Roxas’ pants.

There was an ominousness at work here. It was, if nothing else, an obvious show of power. They could not only _see_ things, they could _reach_ them – they had reached Roxas in the Committee parking lot, and even had methods of slithering into the building itself. Not to overtly sabotage or steal or destroy – they were operating more subtly than that, if you could call trying to beat a kid to death every now and again a form of ‘subtle’. And they were making damn sure that he knew they could reach _him –_ he had placed himself aggressively on their radar, and they wanted him to know that being seen by them was not supposed to be a good thing. For now, it was just pictures. But who knew how far they would go if he pushed them?

Huh. Axel pursed his lips, swinging slightly on the chair, before remembering he was supposed to be opening the place up. He leaned forward and unlocked the steel shutter, sliding it upward and exposing the tunnel beyond. He flicked on the security monitors, the different feeds flickering to life on the screens, Axel scrutinising each of them before having to conclude that whoever had done this had done so long before he entered the building. Everything was still and empty. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it wasn’t going to continue that way for too much longer – researchers were going to be arriving soon. He would have plenty of time to contemplate it all once everyone had arrived, but honestly, he didn’t think it would get him very far. He didn’t quite have enough to go on to come to any concrete conclusions at this point.

The one thing that did unsettle him in all this was the fact that they were obviously still keeping very close tabs on Roxas. Had Axel not been there with him last night, what might have happened? If Roxas hadn’t put his porch light on, so obviously expecting company, would they have made their move again? Unless… they _had_ anticipated Axel’s presence there, and had planned this little intimidation tactic right from the get-go. Which could mean that they specifically wanted to scare Axel off before making another attempt on Roxas, which wouldn’t altogether surprise him. The last time he’d been involved, they hadn’t fared too well out of it. And okay, neither had he, but Roxas had taken care of that – and if they knew he had the fragment of cornerstone, and what he could do with it, perhaps they also knew that Axel hadn’t come out of their little melee too much worse for wear.

He sighed. Once again, he was back to having so much to think about, with so little in the way of actual _answers._ At least he had ascertained they were ShinRa employees, even if very shadowy ones; next on the agenda was to discover what he could about them from a distance before closing in and shutting their operation down for good. Of course, that was always assuming they didn’t force his hand in some way _prior_ to that point…

Ugh. It almost hurt his head. There were too many different potential scenarios flitting through his head, and he had no way of knowing which was the more likely one of the bunch. He chewed the inside of his lip, movement on the security monitor catching his attention as the first of the researchers turned up – Belle, it looked like. There was a second car close behind hers, Lucrecia, and then a third, Ansem. The work night was beginning.

Axel suspended his ponderings for now, putting on his best game face with which to face everyone. The best defence against these silver-haired pricks was to continue on as if nothing had happened. If they wanted to shake him, they’d started off far too tame. It was going to take a _hell_ of a lot more for them to dissuade him from being by Roxas’ side – and if they wanted to try and force the issue, they were more than welcome to bring it on. He had handled them before, he could do it again. This little prank just served to show how much it was _he_ who was intimidating _them –_ and that was how it was supposed to be.

As the researchers turned up at his window one by one, he smiled and scanned them through, all sunshine and daisies. The only time it dimmed was when Roxas’ car finally appeared on his screens. He felt the same tingle of nervous excitement that he’d had before discovering the pictures bubble up, pulse fluttering in his throat at the sight of the blond. Roxas was second-last to arrive, the final researcher pulling up beside him just as he was climbing out of his car. Who it was gave him pause, however.

Axel watched, fingers over his mouth, thinking carefully about what he was seeing. The two started chatting as they crossed the parking lot, heading for the elevators, with Axel straining to recall exactly how often this sort of interaction happened between them. The final researcher was, after all, Hollander – the former ShinRa geneticist that Ansem had described as a ‘coup’ for the Research Committee. Now that Axel knew for a fact that ShinRa was involved in what was happening to Roxas, he couldn’t help but view Hollander in an entirely different – and suspicious – light.

The two men reached the security hallway and headed for Axel’s station, appearing a minute later in front of him, conversation suspending in order to greet him and have their identifications swiped. Having Roxas right in front of him had his stomach all aquiver, but the blond was casual – friendly, but mild enough that no one would suspect them of being anything other than co-workers. That was… a little disheartening, but Axel understood. It wasn’t like they had the freedom to exchange dewy-eyed looks while Hollander was right there. It made Axel’s negative feelings towards the man increase a notch. If he _was_ some kind of inside man for ShinRa, did that mean that his presence here, right now, the three of them at Axel’s station, was deliberate? Was he trying to drive the point home, that their relationship was known to the enemy?

He kept his gaze almost exclusively on Hollander during the exchange. His smile was steady – almost too much so – his stare unceasing as he registered them in the system and opened up the freight elevator to the laboratory. He was pretty sure he’d succeeded in slightly unnerving the researcher by the end of it.

“You two have a nice night,” Axel said, smile firmly in place, holding Hollander’s gaze for as long as he could before the two of them left. He thought he caught a glimpse of Roxas glancing at him quizzically, but all he could do was _wonder,_ now that it had occurred to him, if Hollander was involved in all this. God damn it. If he’d just thought of it earlier, he could have inserted Hollander’s name into the second ShinRa search, to find out if he was still on their system in conjunction with the silver-haired guys’ names.

Once the elevator had departed for the lab, and he knew he was facing the next several hours on his own, Axel pulled out the girlie mag and shook the envelope back onto the desk. He couldn’t help but have a second look at the photographs, searching fruitlessly one more time for any hint of who had delivered them. All he had were some pictures and a blank envelope, however. He felt fairly sure he could assume that it was the ShinRa guys who had taken the photos, but had they also been ballsy enough to waltz right into the Research Committee building to slip them under his door? Could they really manage that without being spotted? Or was there, in fact, an internal agent with the Committee who was working with them in this?

The one thing he _could_ be sure of was that they wanted him out of the way. They wanted unfettered access to Roxas, without the risk of being beaten bloody by him any time they tried.

Hah. They were going to need a hell of a lot of good luck on their side to pull that one off.

While he studied the pictures closely, he heard something in the background that he almost didn’t recognise for a moment. His head then lifted, with a jolt, as he realised that someone was coming up from the lab. He hastily stuffed the photos back into the magazine and slid it to one side, looking over at the monitors to see – Roxas. The blond was returning upstairs.

Standing, Axel went to the door, unlocking it and waiting for Roxas to come along before opening it, sticking his head out and asking, “Hey – what’s up? You’ve never come back up before you’re ready to go home.”

“I told Ansem I forgot something in my car,” the blond said. “Some reading material I thought might be relevant to our experiments.”

“Oh,” Axel blankly said, then closed his eyes, surprised, when Roxas stepped close and pecked him lightly on the lips.

“Obviously, I was lying.”

Axel’s eyes blinked back open, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. He drew back a little, studying Roxas, asking after a beat, “You came – to see me?”

“You were weird before,” Roxas explained, with a frown. “What was up with all the staring with Hollander? He thinks he has a secret admirer now.”

“A secret…?” Bemused, Axel shook his head. “Me? Admiring _Hollander?”_

“You were staring at him,” Roxas stated, meeting his gaze beadily, “and smiling, like, _constantly._ It was pretty goddamn flirtatious.”

 _“Flirt-!?”_ Axel’s eyes popped wide. He glanced down the hallway to the laboratory elevator, then tugged Roxas into the office. “I figure we’ve got, what, like ten minutes for you to get those imaginary books?”

“Fifteen. I’ll say I forgot them, but had to search the car top to bottom to be sure.”

Axel nodded, shutting the door hard, glancing at the security monitors to make sure no one was coming – not that they would be – then grabbed Roxas by the hand and tugged him over to his chair. He pushed him down into it then lowered himself onto the blond’s lap, looping his arms over the chair’s back.

“So that was _jealousy_ I detected in your tone a moment ago, was it?” he teasingly asked, Roxas looking unimpressed, albeit a little flustered from their position. He nevertheless gazed up defiantly into Axel’s eyes.

“Hollander was kind of convinced,” he waspishly replied. “The whole way down to the lab, he was mumbling about the joys of having an admirer.”

“And that couldn’t be because he and, I don’t know, Lucrecia secretly hooked up?” Axel ventured.

Roxas rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t think so, Axel. Lucrecia is like, asexual or something. She has _zero_ interest in anyone in our lab – let alone _Hollander.”_

“Aw, come on, Hollander’s not that bad.” A wicked grin was playing across his face now, as Roxas started to scowl. “For an older guy, he’s even kinda…”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Roxas warned. He glared at Axel. “Why _were_ you staring at him like that? It was definitely weird.”

Axel smile softened, losing the mischievous edge. “What, don’t tell me you were _actually_ worried?”

Roxas glanced away uncomfortably. “Well, maybe this is the sort of thing you do. I don’t know. You got me, right? So maybe you’re bored now, and need a new conquest. Or something.”

Arching an eyebrow, Axel sat back. “What, seriously?”

The kid grimaced a little, apparently displeased with himself for mentioning it, but needing to speak his mind. “It’s not like you didn’t do that with me – attach yourself suddenly. Maybe that’s how it works with you, maybe you get tired of people. Sudden infatuations that burn out once your needs are met. It’s not like it hasn’t occurred to me that that might happen.”

Somewhat amazed, Axel nevertheless could see where Roxas was coming from – he _had_ gone in for the kill pretty quickly, it was only through sheer persistence and a big chunk of luck that he’d managed to chip away at Roxas’ resistance to him. Still, he hadn’t thought that Roxas had thought it through to this extent. He stared for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s definitely not what this is. Not for me.”

When Roxas reluctantly met his gaze, Axel smiled, unable to keep his affection for the kid from touching his expression. Noticing it, Roxas blushed slightly, glancing quickly away again. Axel saw him swallow, the blush intensifying, embarrassed, now, from what he’d said. “Oh, man,” he muttered. “I must seem like some freakishly obsessed, clingy person now.”

Axel chuckled, leaning back in towards him, nudging Roxas’ chin with his nose. “Nah. You’re smart, that’s all. You think about things too much.”

“It wouldn’t have come out if you hadn’t been like that with Hollander,” the kid protested, as Axel now lightly, almost ticklishly, kissed his jaw. Clearing his throat, Roxas asked, “Um, by the way, before you get going there – can’t people see us here? There’s that great big window, after all…”

“It’s fine,” Axel said, brushing his lips up the blond’s neck to his ear. “Nobody comes once all the researchers are here, and if anyone comes upstairs, you can hear the elevator long before they arrive.” He grinned against the side of Roxas’ face. “Not to mention, this is one of the only rooms in the building without a security feed…”

He felt Roxas tense beneath him, evidently somewhat turned on by such a revelation. Cupping the kid’s face in his hands, Axel pressed their mouths together, tongue probing gently at his lips, requesting entry. Roxas accepted it readily, the two of them sinking into a long, deep kiss.

“As if I’d get tired of you,” Axel murmured, upon eventually pulling away. The words sent a shiver down his spine. Had he really just said that out loud? Before either of them could think too closely on it, he lowered himself to Roxas’ neck, peppering it with wet kisses, wanting to see the glisten of his own saliva upon the blond’s skin.

Beneath him, Roxas breathed unevenly, sighing every now and again as Axel’s lips attacked almost every inch of his exposed flesh. He felt the kid’s arms wrap around him, head lolling to the side to give him better access as he gave all his fascinated attention to the wonders of Roxas’ simultaneously firm, soft throat. He heard a chuckle. “What the hell…?” He felt Roxas shift, one of the arms leaving him. “Really, Axel? I thought you said you were done with the porn magazine?”

The words took a moment to sink in, but by the time Axel realised what Roxas was reaching for, it was too late to stop him. He sat up sharply just as the kid was fishing the magazine up from the desk beside them. With a noisy flutter, the photographs dropped out from between its pages, scattering across the floor. Axel muttered, “Shit, wait, hang on,” and struggled to his feet, moving quickly to try and sweep them together and tuck them out of sight before Roxas noticed anything familiar about them.

“Uh, Axel?” His stomach dropped as he heard Roxas’ perplexed voice from behind him. Turning, he saw that the kid was holding one of the pictures that had evidently slid beneath the chair. Roxas stared at it, then turned it to show Axel. “What’s this?” Axel hesitated, hands clutching several of the pictures. Roxas peered at them, confusion growing. “Are those all the same picture?”

 _Damn it._ With a slow exhalation, Axel shook his head. “No. They’re not the same. Not exactly.”

“What’s going on?” Roxas wondered, eyes back on the one in his own hands. “This is from – last night, isn’t it?” His eyes began to narrow. “Wait – Axel…” He seemed to be figuring it out.

“I think it’s those guys,” he wearily said. “The ones who keep attacking you. I figure they’re unimpressed that I keep getting in the way, so they’re trying to, I don’t know, scare me or something.”

Abruptly alarmed, Roxas stood up, came over to him and snatched the rest of the pictures from his hands. He flicked through them, eyes widening. When he got to the one of earlier that day, showing Axel walking along the path to his car, with Roxas leaning against the doorframe watching him go, he looked positively disturbed. Mission accomplished for the assholes. “What the _hell,_ Axel? Where did these come from?”

Axel was silent for a moment. When Roxas’ sharp gaze found him, he sighed. “They were – here. Under the door, when I got here. Waiting for me.”

 _“What!?”_ The blond looked almost nauseated. “So you’re telling me that someone deliberately came to _your office_ and left these for you? Today, before anyone got here?”

“Looks like,” Axel moodily agreed, figuring that he could forget about any further workplace shenanigans this evening. Damn it, and Roxas had been so willing, too. Perhaps his priorities were in the wrong order here, but he’d already had ample time to think about the stupid pictures. He’d been enjoying that pleasurable little interlude.

Roxas fell silent, thinking. “What do we do?” he asked after a long moment, voice containing a hollowness that Axel didn’t like at _all._ He frowned.

“What do you mean, ‘what do we do’? We do what we normally do, which is not let those jerks get the better of us. They’ve been beating you silly for six months, and _now_ you choose to get worried? Because someone figured out how to use a Polaroid?”

“But – this is _you,”_ Roxas said, a fearfulness in his eyes as he met Axel’s gaze. “They’re focusing on _you_ here, not me. They left these for _you._ That means they’re _targeting_ you.”

Axel resisted the urge to snort his opinion of having those half-bit thugs so much as _begin_ to think that they had _him_ in their crosshairs. He held up his hands, trying to placate Roxas’ anxiety. “Now, wait. Listen to me, Roxas. You’re freaking out, and you don’t need to be.”

“No?” Roxas demanded.

“No,” Axel calmly replied. “We already knew they knew of me, a long time ago. They just didn’t think much of me until I helped you out last weekend, right? Maybe now they even know that I know about your secret, which is a safe assumption to make from their perspective.” He stepped close to the blond, placing his hands on his shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze. “But it’s not like I’m just any old schmuck who can’t defend himself. And that’s probably what pisses them off the most – that’s why they’re reduced to _this_ kiddie crap.” He glanced derisively at the photos, still tightly clasped in Roxas’ hands. “They want me to know they’re watching me? Who cares? You should be more freaked out that they were camped across from _your_ doorstep, taking pictures of _your_ house – not the fact that _I_ was in them.”

Wait, was that the point he was trying to make?

He shook his head briefly to clear it. “The fact is, this isn’t anything new and terrible. It’s just intimidation tactics, and, quite frankly, it’s not working on _me.”_

Unhappily, Roxas said, “But it’s not okay if they’re targeting _you.”_

“Whereas it is when it’s you?” Axel retorted. “Tell me again how that works.”

“I’ve been their target from the outset,” Roxas argued. “That’s fine, I can take care of myself, more or less. But I can’t – I can’t take care of you, too. You were never supposed to be _involved,_ Axel, and now that you are, they’re – they might come after you.” His distress was strong. Axel could feel him trembling. He was genuinely frightened by this, by this one thing, after all he’d been through already.

Groaning, Axel couldn’t help but tug him close. It was difficult when he couldn’t impress upon the kid just how little those idiots actually bothered him, or how incapable they’d be at permanently harming him. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, Roxas,” he reassured the blond. “I’m not helpless, I promise you. I know how to fight, and I’ve got good home security. Nobody’s going to jump me.”

“That’s what I thought about _me,”_ Roxas croaked into his chest. “And then they might have killed me if you hadn’t been there.” He lowered his head. “I can’t – I can’t handle this. Not when it’s you, too. Where the hell is this going to end up, Axel?”

Axel held him tighter, thinking of the program back at his apartment, slowly scanning its way back through the ShinRa system. “…This isn’t going to last forever,” he carefully said, after a hesitation. “I have – friends, you know. I wasn’t going to tell you this yet, but I called in some favours. I have people checking out who those guys are.”

Surprised, Roxas pulled back, looking up at him. “Wh-what? Really?”

Nodding, Axel smoothed a hand over the kid’s hair. “Yeah. I didn’t want to say anything until I had results, but I have some reliable sources from my line of work that are pretty good at tracking people down. I gave them some details, and they’re working to find those guys. _That’s_ where this is going to end – I’m taking care of it. So trust me, okay?”

Roxas stared at him, expression briefly blank. Then, slowly, cautious relief began replacing the fear. “What happens if you find out who they are?”

“We can do something about them. Threaten them, at the very least. ShinRa wouldn’t be able to protect them if we have hard evidence on who they are, and who they work for.”

Roxas started to nod, startled by the idea but warming to it. “That’s – that’s not bad. I’ve never been able to figure out any of that. If you do… if you can find out their identities…”

“They’d have no choice but to back off,” Axel firmly said.

A very gradual, very tiny glimmer of hope showed itself in Roxas’ eyes. “If we can just keep them away until the Cornerstone Theory is done – they’d have no reason to come after me anymore.”

Axel smiled, though with a hint of tightness. “That’s right.”

“I’d be safe,” Roxas murmured. “It’d all be over.”

Axel forced the smile to remain in place. “Sure.”

Taking a breath, the kid met his gaze with an openness that Axel hadn’t seen before. “…Okay. I trust you. But you have to tell me these things from now on. And – you have to let me know when you find anything out.”

“I will absolutely do that,” Axel lied, struggling to ignore the twisting sensation in his gut.

Roxas faltered one last time, reluctant to speak, but evidently needing to ask, “And – that thing with Hollander before, that was…?”

Axel’s expression eased a little, becoming more natural. “I remembered he was ex-ShinRa, and was wondering if he was the one who left the pictures.”

Roxas stiffened, blinked, then grinned like the sun coming out. “What – seriously? _That’s_ what that was? Oh, man.” He chuckled a little, shaking his head. “Well, congratulations, because all you did was manage to make the guy think you have a crush on him. You’re now going to have to deal with Hollander flirting with you every time he goes through.”

“Eh – really? He’s… he’s interested?” Axel’s crestfallen face made Roxas laugh out loud.

“Oh, he’s positively _flattered_ by your attention. This is going to be amazing to witness.”

“Shut up, you.” Axel silenced him with a lingering kiss, before regretfully mentioning, “I think we’re out of time. You should probably be getting back.”

Roxas sighed a little, glanced down at the photographs, then held them out for Axel to take. “Burn these, or shred them or something. You’re right, it’s stupid.”

“I don’t know, I think they caught my good side,” Axel joked. “Maybe I can look into a promising career in modelling after this is over.”

Roxas’ eyes rolled, a positive sign that he had recovered from the shock of seeing the pictures. “Yeah, sure. Just don’t quit your night job.” He went to the door and took a moment to collect himself, tidying his hair and clothing, tugging on his lab coat, taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he muttered. “I can do this.” He smiled at Axel over his shoulder. “See you at the end of the night, I guess.” He hesitated. “Make sure you lock up after I’m gone, okay?”

Axel nodded. “I always do. Ansem gets pissy if I don’t. He’s scarier than _anything.”_

They shared a chuckle, and then Roxas was gone, retracing his steps along the hallway, the elevator rumbling its way back down to the lab. Axel closed the door and locked it with a heavy breath. Man, he had _not_ been prepared for that. This night had rapidly become a circus.

Scratching his head, he wandered back to the desk and plopped down into the chair, swinging it around to check on the monitors before turning his attention back to the photographs. They had caused trouble, but it seemed like they’d actually worked in his favour. Roxas seemed encouraged by the idea of someone out there working to help them. This whole issue had obviously been taking a far greater toll on him than he’d ever admitted to. The idea of it finally ending… it seemed like more than he’d been hoping for. What had he expected, really, deep down inside? What fears had he covered up behind stubborn bravado, unable to admit to even to himself?

Closing his eyes, Axel sank into the chair, head tipping back. What he wouldn’t give to be able to tell Roxas it was all going to be okay – that he was never going to be harassed or hurt by ShinRa thugs again. Well, that would be something to look forward to, he supposed.

Eyes slowly peeling open, Axel stared at the stone ceiling. Something to look forward to, huh? A period of calm for Roxas… until it all ultimately ended.

It wasn’t exactly… a happy thought.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

The week passed slowly. Axel always seemed to waiting for one week after another to grind to an inevitable end – things could never just _happen,_ could they? There just had to be some interminable _delay_ to get through. Between his initial attempts to make progress with Roxas, and seeking out information on the silver-haired guys, Axel was fed up to the back fucking teeth with waiting one more _week_.

However, it wasn’t without its perks. Sure, time was dragging, but every night there came a point where it would positively flash by: Roxas, anxious for his wellbeing despite – or perhaps because of – Axel’s fairly blasé attitude towards the photographs, had started waiting to be the last to leave the lab each night. Just as Axel had once been concerned for his safety at the idea of the kid walking alone across the parking lot, so too was Roxas at the prospect of Axel being the very last being to leave the building. That meant that each night, they had a little… alone time together, in the office, before Axel got around to locking up and the two of them walked, shoulders touching, to their cars. Those were the moments that Axel found himself yearning for, each and every night.

Roxas was…

Roxas was… _amazing_. Every minute spent in his company was delightful to some degree. Axel could hardly even believe the kid could be this awesome, and that he chose to spend time with _him_. It wasn’t that Axel’s self-esteem suffered in the slightest, and he knew damn well how much hard work had gone into winning Roxas over, but… even so, he sometimes found himself astounded. Astounded at this happiness, perhaps; at how warm it felt to be with Roxas. It was thrilling, it was exciting, it was…

…It was absolutely terrifying. The giddy thrill was at every turn confronted by the cold drop of his purpose here. He couldn’t give Roxas up, not now, and he knew, _knew_ that that moment was going to come where he glanced at the kid and all the shine had worn off, and he’d be just so pleased to be able to end it with a bullet… but that time wasn’t yet. It wasn’t _now._ And so he was faced with looking at Roxas, listening to him, touching him every day, and thinking… _‘How much longer now?’_ How much longer until this speck of breathing light was nothing but – dust?

By his hand, no less.

It brought a tight clutch to his chest and throat and stomach, with nothing to make it go away except to try and kiss Roxas hard enough to pour it into him instead, desperately hoping for the moment in which he simply wouldn’t give a damn anymore. Any one of these kisses might be the last he cared about. He had to get in as many as possible – along with other things – before time ran out.

Some days, he was starting to feel like he couldn’t quite catch his breath.

.o.O.o.

On the third day of his week of yet-more-waiting, Axel found a present waiting for him at the door to his apartment. He almost didn’t see it, one foot kicking it ahead as he pulled himself wearily across the threshold. He paused at the sight of it, recognising it instantly: that same yellow envelope as had awaited him at the guard station. This time, it was at his home. Someone had been busy. Someone sure as shit enjoyed playing with fire.

Axel didn’t give any potential watchers the satisfaction of popping back up to street level to peer fruitlessly around; he was pretty sure that if anyone was watching, they’d be at least smart enough to do so _out_ of his line of sight. They’d be holed up in some shadow somewhere, waiting for him to react, to shake his fist at the wind and offer forth frightened, bewildered expressions for their pleasure. But this wasn’t their game – it was _his_ fucking game. His hunt. They were the irritant here; even if they’d had dibs on the kid first, Axel had swept in and taken command, and it was high time they came to terms with it. They had no _idea_ what they were dealing with, the snake they were foolishly poking at. They’d already ticked him off by pursuing Roxas so aggressively; now they were trying to back him into a _corner_ of some kind, with cheap tricks? They’d done all right to find him, he’d grant them that – but then, if they had an inside contact at the Research Committee, it’d be child’s play to gain access to his employee file.

Still, it was curious to him that they weren’t making a move beyond this. They wanted to scare him off, right? So why not close in for the kill? Why wait, hovering back, demonstrating their all-seeing nature but hesitating to strike? Was it perhaps they who had been scared off? Had he spooked them with _his_ aggression?

…He hoped so. Because these new pictures… as he sorted through them, he found that they were of him leaving and arriving at his apartment. _This_ apartment. It wasn’t just about camping outside of Roxas’ place anymore. They were making it blatantly clear that they were watching _him_. They were doing their damndest to unnerve him. That suggested that they were eager to make another attempt on Roxas; perhaps they had, and had encountered his new and improved security system. Maybe that was what had driven them to this, the only recourse they had remaining.

Maybe, maybe, maybe; questions, questions, questions. All just theories, nothing solid to go on.

Just a few more grinding days to go.

.o.O.o.

The time passed, a chunk at a time. Axel received no more pictures, but… a pervading sense of being watched dogged him now. He couldn’t shake it. No matter where he went, or what he did, he got the immense urge to glance over his shoulder to see if someone was within his peripherals. It annoyed him to no end that the jerk-offs had managed this much. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would ordinarily admit to, but knowing they’d been surveilling him had him on edge. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew it was happening, but couldn’t _do_ anything about it until he had more information. He just needed something to go on – any damn thing, to enable him to _act_ for once. He hadn’t _acted_ in so long, he was beginning to wonder if his ability to do so had all but rusted up.

But, at long last, the moment of truth finally arrived on the Saturday afternoon. The scan halted, assembled its data, and was done, pausing Axel as he sat munching a bowl of soggy cereal and thinking dark, confused thoughts that twisted from the topic of the silver-haired douches to flitting memories of Roxas. It was all that consumed his mind, these days. God, he needed a break.

As the same _COMPLETE_ message from last Sunday flashed at him, he stared for a moment at his laptop, realisation dawning that at long last he was about to get something akin to answers. He then cursed quietly, wiping his chin as a trickle of milk spilled from his mouth, hastily finishing his mouthful and setting the bowl aside. He glanced at the clock. He had an hour before he had to be getting to work. No time to do anything about what he was about to learn just yet. But as long as he found _something,_ it was going to be sweeter than waiting for Christmas. About as gleeful, too.

He quickly brought up the scan’s results, the program taking a minute to compile them before displaying it all on-screen. What he saw there brought a smile to his face, bright but dangerous, lit by inner fire. He now officially had the names of the silver-haired attackers – a grand total of three men, only one of whom he hadn’t encountered yet, all brothers. In addition to Loz, their names were Kadaj and, Axel’s favourite stabbing victim – and perpetrator, he grudgingly supposed – Yazoo. These were the men who were Roxas’ tormentors, who had gone so far as to even try and kill him. Something burned in Axel as he gazed upon their faces, their employee files in front of him. He would ensure that they paid for their transgressions. Roxas would never have to worry about these men again.

He clicked down the screen, in search of results pertaining now to Roxas. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, exactly – a detailed plan on their intentions for him logged in the system didn’t really seem ShinRa’s style – but there was, in fact, mention of Roxas’ name. Axel felt a chill at the sight of it. He sighed, murmuring, “God damn it,” under his breath. So here it was, then: explicit proof that ShinRa had its sights set on this one kid who was supposed to have been nothing more than an assistant researcher. What had drawn them to him in the first place, for Christ’s sake? There should have been _nothing –_ Roxas was, to be perfectly frank, a total nobody in the research game. ShinRa was a multi-billion dollar _conglomerate,_ with scientific research as only _part_ of its interests. It had fingers in every pie under the fucking sun, and someone within its ranks had chosen to zero in on _Roxas?_

“Ridiculous,” Axel angrily muttered. He scrolled further, hoping to see some sign of _why_ they had singled out Roxas, only to stop sharply, eyes slowly widening. Axel stopped breathing; his heart seemed to lurch and then freeze in his chest. The silence of his apartment developed a deafening edge as it fell over him when his fingers stopped clicking at his laptop.

There was a name on-screen, in conjunction with Roxas’. It was mentioned like – like the person was Roxas’ keeper. A silent mentor, nudging Roxas towards… something. That part wasn’t mentioned as anything but ‘desired result’, ShinRa cagey even within its own records. But that name, man, _that name…_

“What the hell is this?”

Axel felt breathless all of a sudden. Was this – some kind of joke?Had someone in ShinRa realised that he was poking around, and provided deliberately false results to enflame him and send him on the wrong path? Because this – this couldn’t be right. It just didn’t _fit,_ it…

He checked the hack’s summary, hunting for signs within its rolling text that someone, anyone, had noticed it shuffling around the ShinRa system. The more he searched, the more that he found it had once again fulfilled its task completely undetected, the more frustrated he became.

Eventually, he threw his hands away from the computer and sat sharply back, simply staring at it for a long minute. Swallowing, he checked the time again: damn it, he was going to run late if he delayed any longer. But this… this was…

His face twitched, then gradually darkened. It was – accurate. It had to be. He had searched for Roxas’ name in their digital vaults, and it had been presented to him, complete with mention of a puppeteer he hadn’t anticipated.

It wasn’t going to end well, but he needed to confront them. He needed to finish this. There was indeed an inside agent at the Research Committee, and they had deliberately allowed Roxas to be harmed. It was time to start shaking ShinRa up, and protect Roxas from everyone but himself.

It didn’t make sense, not yet… but it would. Once he got Doctor Lucrecia Crescent to talk.

.o.O.o.

Walking into the Research Committee felt surreal, Axel moving with such purpose, his heart pounding harder than usual and not, for once, because Roxas was on the menu. His steps along the concrete corridor were sharp and quick, his face set grimly. Inside, a splinter of doubt was throwing him into chaos.

 _Lucrecia._ Ansem’s second-in-command, a brilliant scientist by all accounts, and deeply invested in both the Research Committee and the Cornerstone Project. Why on _earth_ would she be affiliated with ShinRa? How long had she been? How had it happened? And, most importantly of all: why the hell would she let anyone hurt Roxas? She didn’t seem like a bitch. She didn’t talk like one, or act like one, or look down her nose at people. She’d always been softly-spoken, ready with a gentle smile, and respectful. And it seemed _natural._

But she was ShinRa, and had been all along. She was ShinRa, and she had allowed all of this to happen. There was no way that Ansem knew, he hadn’t even mentioned her as a former ShinRa employee, like he had with Hollander. Axel didn’t think anyone else knew, either. Roxas sure as hell didn’t.

Arriving at the guard station, Axel opened it up with a series of bangs and sat heavily at the desk, staring at the unblinking monitors, waiting for the researchers to begin arriving. It was such a small group of people, each of them trusted and trust _ing,_ believing that they were all in this together, striving towards a similar goal. If anyone, _any_ of them, had suspected Lucrecia, it would have come out. It would have been a scandal. The role she played was _flawless,_ somehow, and that just made Axel all the more uncertain. He had checked and double-checked the information, scouring for some fault in it that would prove it was fake, planted there to fuck with anyone who dared to try and break into ShinRa’s secret files, but… it had all been sound. It had been so _dry,_ so matter-of-fact. Roxas was their object of desire, and she was his – manipulator. She had been watching over him, all this time.

God. Roxas was going to be devastated if he found out. Would he even believe Axel?

His heart sank as Roxas was the first to arrive. He watched the blond appear on the monitors with an ache deep in his chest, the warmth that automatically flooded him at the sight of the kid colliding with the twist of his stomach. He swallowed, closed his eyes for a moment and prepared himself. When he opened them again, he had his game face on – pleasant, professional, everything that was expected of him. He just had to make sure Roxas didn’t see through it, as the kid was wont to do.

It took a few minutes for Roxas to reach the guard station, during which time other cars had started turning up. Lucrecia’s wasn’t yet among them. Appearing at the window, Roxas slid his ID into the tray, a happy smile on his face as he greeted, “Hey.”

Axel couldn’t help but melt a little. Some of his tension eased, the expression on his face, God help him, a little goofy as he smiled back. “Hey, there. Did you sleep well?”

“Pretty well,” Roxas casually replied, then leaned forward, hands on the short ledge at the other side of the glass, and murmured through the perforations, “Although I tend to sleep better with you around.”

Axel paused, felt his blood heat up, a tingle in his fingers and a stirring in his groin. “…You don’t say?”

Roxas smirked a little, aware of, and pleased with, Axel’s response. “Mm-hm. You know, tomorrow’s our day off. There’s nothing to stop you from maybe… following me home at the end of the night…”

Axel’s palms went damp, his mouth suddenly dry. His body screamed for Roxas, well aware of the way the blond’s skin felt and tasted, the prospect of that and more just laid out in front of him like a feast. His eyes darted to the security monitors, people on their way up, the elevator making noise down at the end of the corridor as it ascended to meet them.

Arching an eyebrow, losing some of the seductive tone, Roxas asked, “Do I need to let you mull this over?”

Axel blinked, shook his head, met Roxas’ gaze and felt all the reluctance in the universe douse him. The blond was so sweet, so perfect, so goddamn _sexy,_ and yet, despite all that, Axel had little choice but to say, “…I’m so sorry.” God, he meant it. “I can’t tonight. I have to – stay late. There are some security issues I need to take care of.”

Roxas dimmed a little, obviously disappointed. “Oh. Security issues?”

“Yeah.” Axel couldn’t believe he was turning down such a blatant offer of sex. Jesus Christ. Someone just neuter him now and get it over with.

Roxas’ expression had flattened out. He hadn’t been expecting to have the offer rejected. Axel felt like maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d be going to bed with blue balls tonight. “Shit,” Roxas muttered, as the elevator doors slid open down the hallway. He sighed, then quickly, quietly urged, “Just – come over whenever you _can,_ damn it. Doesn’t matter what time it is. I’ll wait up.”

Axel’s heart sang. The brightening of his face apparently made up for the fact that he’d had to say ‘no’ for the first time ever to Roxas. The kid grinned a little, gesturing and saying, “I’d like my ID back, now.”

Axel hurried to comply, sliding it back across, Roxas taking it and clipping it to his sweater. “I’ll uh – I might take a while, but… I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

Roxas nodded. “You do that.” He then calmly turned and continued down the passageway, Axel pressing the button for the lab elevator. By the time the next person turned up at his window thirty seconds later, Axel had somehow managed to wipe all traces of glee from his face. Now, he was more mixed up than ever – all the tension that surrounded the thing with Lucrecia, plus a big, old-fashioned whack of horniness and anticipation for the coming time with Roxas. The kid never failed to turn him into an absolute mess, whether he intended to or not.

At long last, fourth to arrive, came Lucrecia. She was on her own, no one turning up within a minute of her, which meant that Axel would have a brief period in which to talk to her one-on-one. He steeled himself as she rode the elevator down to his corridor, steadied his breathing as her high-heeled shoes clicked along, the sound reaching him long before the woman herself. Then she was at his window, pleasant and professional, the exact same Lucrecia that had presented herself to him each and every night since he had started this job-within-a-job. “Hello, Axel. How are you tonight?”

He received her identification card, replying automatically, “I’m good, Doctor, how about you?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

Axel took a breath. “Uh, Doctor Crescent…” He glanced over at her, her face open, inquisitive, an expectant smile in place. She looked so… innocent. He cleared his throat. “I was wondering if I could ask you to – stay late tonight. I have something I need to discuss with you.”

She frowned a little. “Oh? What’s the matter? Is everything all right?”

Axel made a show of looking strained, not that it took much effort to pull it off. “There’s something really important that I need to talk to you about. It’s…” He looked over at the monitors, saw that another car had pulled up – Ansem’s, of course. Shit. “I think there’s been a security breach, Doctor.”

If Lucrecia was faking the alarm on her face, it was a damn fine acting job. “What do you mean? What sort of breach, Axel?”

He shook his head. “It’s not – ah…” He appeared to struggle for words.

“Axel?” she pressed.

“…It’s about – an employee.” He hesitated, met her sharp-eyed gaze. “It’s about Roxas. There’s something happening with him, and I – I don’t think I can keep on…” He trailed off, expression tightening. If she was in fact involved, then she knew the details well enough – knew about his involvement in it all, too. But she didn’t know how capable he was, didn’t know he wasn’t just some average guy. He had to make her think he was cracking under the pressure. Anything less, and she’d grow suspicious. “Roxas is in trouble,” he heavily said. “And I’ve been trying to keep it quiet, like he wanted, and I’ve done everything I can, but I don’t think I can do it anymore. It’s become… too big for me alone. I need – _Roxas_ needs help.”

Lucrecia studied him for a moment, expression solemn. Then, slowly, she said, “If Roxas is in some kind of trouble, then that’s certainly concerning. But how is this a security breach, Axel?”

He sucked a breath through his teeth. “…I think it’s to do with the Cornerstone Project. I think that that’s… why he’s being targeted.”

“Targeted,” she murmured. The sound of the elevator activating, rising to the parking lot, startled her.

Her head twisted to the side, Axel mentioning quietly, “That’s Ansem it’s going for.”

Lucrecia seemed to debate inside herself. “…Why me?” she eventually asked. “Why are you asking me for help?”

Damn it. That clinched it – she was part of it. She’d have never thought to ask that question if she wasn’t. She was covering it well, but there was a flicker of wariness about her now that hadn’t been there before.

“You’re the only one I really trust,” Axel told her. “I mean, not that I don’t trust Ansem, but, you know, it’s Ansem. If he thinks something is threatening the project, he’s just as likely to do something – drastic. You’re the only one I can turn to, Doctor.” He made it sound pleading towards the end there, earnestness gleaming from his eyes. “I…” He hesitated, glanced away. “I care a lot about Roxas.”

When he looked back, Lucrecia’s gaze was hard. “...You’re in a relationship with that boy.”

“Yes.” He didn’t even try to hide it. Christ knew she had to be aware of it already, but they both had their part to play in all this, and with Ansem on his way down, neither of him had time to waste mincing words.

“That’s generally frowned upon, Axel.”

“I’m sure it is,” he tightly replied, “but that’s not the issue here. Roxas isn’t safe, Doctor Crescent. And I’m no longer capable of keeping him safe myself. I’m sorry, but – I need your help. We both do. _Please.”_

She sighed shortly, glancing towards the elevator as it opened up to expel Ansem. They were out of time. Luckily, her role was that of the motherly mentor, and, as expected, she maintained it even when faced with her own rotten plotting. “…All right, Axel. If you’re really that worried… I’ll need to hear about this. I’ll stay late, and once everyone is gone, we’ll discuss it. I don’t know what you want _me_ to do, though…”

“I just really need to talk about this,” Axel helplessly said. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and – I’m scared for Roxas.”

She nodded tersely. “All right,” she said again, firmly this time, cutting off any further mention of it as Ansem got within earshot. Turning, she was all smiles again, greeting, “Good evening, professor.”

“Lucrecia.” Ansem slid his ID through to Axel, Axel registering it quickly in the system.

“Good evening, Professor Ansem,” he said, an echo of Lucrecia, to which he received a mere grunt in return. He passed the ID card back, Ansem taking it with barely a glance in Axel’s direction. Lucrecia accompanied the man down the hallway as Axel pressed the button for the second elevator, and a minute later the pair had vanished down the shaft and into the laboratory.

Axel released a long, heavy sigh, pressing his forehead briefly against the desk. This was going to be tricky. He had yet to decide whether or not he was going to let Lucrecia live. It all depended, he supposed, on how she behaved – on the threat she posed after tonight. If he felt like she was going to be a loose end he couldn’t control with intimidation alone…

Well. There was nothing he could do but follow this through, and do what was required of him. Roxas couldn’t continue to be at risk, not after the silver-haired guys had all but tried to kill him. Had it remained at mere beatings, Axel might have been able to let it slide a little longer, or gone about Lucrecia’s involvement in a more subtle way… but she was the weak link. She was the one who was within his reach, the one who could be made to talk. She had no one to blame but herself.

She was going to tell him everything he needed to know, one way or another.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

One by one, as the night grew nearer to morning, the researchers trickled back out of the lab and sleepily made their way for home. Roxas was second last to leave; he appeared to have tried to be the last, since he was out later than usual, but Lucrecia was, naturally, outwaiting him.

It had occurred to Axel that, more than anything, she probably agreed to stay and hear him out purely to discover what, if anything, he knew of their operation. She would need to be careful, if it seemed like he and Roxas were aware of too much. Who knew what her next move would have been, if he’d actually been serious about requesting her aid. The thought was nearly repulsive; she was in such a position of trust, and seemed to think nothing of abusing the shit out of it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t above seeing the hypocrisy in his anger with her, and so pushed it down, swallowed it like a lump and reminded himself that he was doing this not because he _cared_ about Roxas, not really, but because he needed to secure Roxas’ safety until he himself was to take advantage of that trust.

Ugh. That made him actually feel a little ill.

When Roxas eventually passed the guard station, it was with a faintly regretful smile sent through the glass, the blond well aware that Axel was not going to be right behind him. It was the first night in many that they weren’t leaving together – it felt wrong, and a little bit lonely. Axel sent back a similar smile, and they parted ways, Axel unable to tell him how long he’d be. It pained him to watch Roxas leave without him, but luckily Lucrecia did not give him time to dwell on it.

Before Roxas had so much as left the building, the freight elevator made its familiar grinding sound and descended to the lab, bringing Lucrecia up a minute later. Her body language was… stiff, from what he could see on the video feed. Axel sighed, running his fingers through his hair, standing and glancing around the office. He closed the steel cover over the window and locked it, glancing at the monitors to see Roxas climbing into his car, his gaze lingering there a moment before he turned to the door, unlocked and opened it as Lucrecia was making her way towards the guard station.

When she appeared at the door, he gave her a thin, tense smile. “Thanks for coming, Doc. I appreciate your cooperation.” He stood back and gestured for her to enter, which she did with only the slightest hesitation, glancing around the guard station while Axel slowly closed the door in her wake.

The sound of the lock clicking back into place caught her attention sharply. She swivelled in place, staring at him, her high, brown ponytail swinging behind her. Axel leaned against the door and spent a moment scrutinising her. Her eyes had widened, but her manner remained calm enough as she asked, “Is it really necessary to lock us in, Axel? I’m sure we’re safe enough here in the building. We’re the last two here, after all.”

“Yeah. We’re safe,” Axel agreed, then amended, “Well – I am.” He let the implication of this sink in, Lucrecia’s gaze steady upon him. “As for you,” he went on slowly, pushing away from the door, tucking the keys to the lock deep into his pocket, “that depends on you, Doctor.”

She lowered her chin, eyeing him warily. “…What is this, Axel? I thought you wanted my help. What do you intend to do to me?”

He chuckled dryly. “Doctor, you make it sound like I’m going to sexually assault you. Didn’t we already ascertain that I’m ‘in a relationship with that boy’?” His smile, barely there to begin with, vanished. “I’d do nearly anything for ‘that boy’. And you’ve been helping to hurt him.”

Now she reacted. Her feet shifted, one heel clicking as she took an unconscious step back. Whatever she’d been waiting for, it hadn’t been this, not even in the depths of the small fragment of caution she had borne through the doorway. “Wha…” She couldn’t quite get her voice out on the first try. She attempted again, stronger this time but strained as she demanded, “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

“And I don’t like it when smart people play stupid,” Axel answered, his voice smooth, his manner placid. It hid the beginnings of his anger, which licked like a flame at his insides and had done since the moment he’d realised she was a party in this. “So how about you drop the act, Lucrecia?”

She blinked at the use of her name. Axel had been nothing but respectful towards her in all his time working here, very conscious of being sure to address her properly as the second most senior researcher. That he called her ‘Lucrecia’ to her face was – jarring for her. “Axel.” Her tone was firm, but her eyes betrayed her, revealing the beginnings of fear. “You need to unlock that door and let me out now. I am completely serious. Do that, and you won’t be in trouble. There’s still time for you to back away.”

Axel nodded thoughtfully, stepping towards her. “I see. Time for me to back away, huh? From – this situation, do you mean? Or from the whole thing with Roxas in general?”

“I don’t know what –” She broke off with a gasp as he snaked out a hand and snatched her wrist, yanking it up, squeezing it hard. He jerked her towards him, unbalancing her on her heels, nearly making her buckle… but she was a tough lady. She fought to maintain her footing, even as he gripped her hard enough to leave bruises, even as there was a chance she’d twisted an ankle.

His voice remained quiet, steady. “Don’t lie to me, Lucrecia. You’re involved with those silver-haired guys – Loz, Yazoo, and the one I haven’t met yet, Kadaj. All of you work for ShinRa.”

Her face snapped up, horror showing briefly on her features. She smothered it quickly, but it had been there, and they both knew that he had seen it. She regained her balance and stood back up, trying to tug free from his punishing grasp. “I don’t like this!” she breathlessly exclaimed. “Let me go, at once!”

“No.” Axel’s other hand reached up and grabbed her throat this time, once again gripping hard. Not enough to choke off her air supply, but – enough. She let out a frightened whimper, eyes fixed on his. “Let’s start this conversation over,” Axel softly suggested, giving a warning squeeze to show her he was deadly serious. “Now, Lucrecia… you are going to tell me about those three men that keep hurting Roxas. I want to know where they’re holed up, because after you, they’re on my ‘to-threaten’ list.”

She closed her eyes, desperation plain on her face. She tried again to pull away, stopping with a gurgle as Axel crushed her throat and wrist simultaneously. The pain made her reconsider, made her open her eyes back up and stare at him, her expression becoming something unreadable.

Slowly, the recognition that he had her trapped started to filter through. They were the last ones here – no one would know she had stayed behind. It was the last day of the week, which meant that nobody would be around again until Monday morning. Even if someone noticed her car still in the parking garage, it’s not like they’d come running to see why. Axel was in control here – he was physically larger, stronger, and psychologically meaner. She appeared to be beginning to notice that part especially, in the cruelty of his gaze, the utter coldness with which he regarded her, and the savagery of his grasp. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t know what he’d done already, either, in his dealings with the silver-haired guys – so maybe, just maybe, she was starting to realise just which fucking creek she’d made her way up without a paddle.

He felt her swallow against his palm. Hoarsely, she begged, “Axel… please…”

“No pleading. I’m not a merciful man, Doctor.” He tightened his fingers ever so slightly around her neck. “Now,” he said, all reason, “why don’t you tell me where I can find those three brothers you keep siccing on the guy I’d very happily kill for?”

She shivered in his grasp. “What are you?” she moaned. “You’re not – you’re not _normal.”_

“I am everything I want or need to be,” Axel calmly responded. He dug his nails into her soft skin, to remind her that this wasn’t a game they were playing, and finally, seeing no way out, she admitted defeat.

She pressed her lips thinly together, then said, “…They’re… in a storage unit at the edge of the city centre. Highwind Storage Services, number – number twenty-eight. They lay low there when they’re not…” Her voice faded.

Axel gave a hard smile. “Not what? Hanging around taking pictures of Roxas and me? Waiting for – what _is_ it they’re waiting for, Lucrecia?” He adjusted his grip on her, hand a little sweaty now, within tasting distance of all the answers he’d been itching for his entire time here. “What are those guys –”

They both froze as a knock came at the door, Roxas on the other side calling, _“Axel?”_

 _“Shit,”_ he hissed, glancing frantically over at the bank of monitors and seeing that the kid’s car was still in the parking lot, he hadn’t left yet, even though he’d looked like he was just _about_ to the last time Axel had checked.

Lucrecia took advantage of the distraction, ramming a knee up into the fork of Axel’s legs, then, when he choked and his grip on her loosened, yanked free and cried out, _“Help me! Roxas!”_

Axel grabbed hold of her, almost punched her, anger flashing high – but instead thrust her across the room, into the corner. She slammed into the wall with a yelp, Axel snarling at her, just as the door handle started to rattle. When it didn’t budge, Roxas resumed hurriedly knocking, fist all but punching against the door. _“Axel! Open up! Now!”_

He sent a wild, dangerous look at Lucrecia, who covered her mouth and shrank away at the sight of him. He doubted she’d ever had someone look at her with such a desire to mutilate before. Holding up a finger to his lips – a silent, deadly warning – he moved over to the door, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to salvage this situation.

_“Axel! Open the door!”_

Taking a breath, well aware that Lucrecia had screwed things up for him _beautifully_ with that little yell, he steeled himself, then fished out his keys and did as he was told. He unlocked the door and pulled it open wide enough to fill with his face. He gave Roxas a bright smile. “Hey! What’re you still doing here? I thought you were going to wait for me back at your place.”

Roxas stared at him incredulously. “What – what is going on? Was that Lucrecia I just heard?” He tried to peer past Axel, whose body filled the doorway, blocking the room beyond from view.

Axel grinned wider. “What? Her? Why would she be –”

“Axel, for the love of God. What’s going on?” Axel noticed, belatedly, that Roxas was shaking slightly. His face was pale, his eyes wide. He had heard the full force of Lucrecia’s cry for help, and no amount of bullshitting was going to shake that sound from his ears. Axel’s expression dropped, with a suddenness that seemed to scare Roxas even more than Lucrecia’s yell had. “Axel… don’t tell me she’s in there with you…”

Axel clenched his teeth tightly for a moment. “Roxas…”

“Jesus Christ. Let me in, Axel.” He could hear the dread in the kid’s voice, like the last thing he wanted was to find out the truth of what was going on here – like everything he’d been starting to enjoy was about to come crashing down around his ears.

Axel exhaled sharply, then, seeing no alternative, stepped back from the doorway. He opened it wide, letting Roxas in. The blond entered with round eyes, letting out the smallest of despairing noises as he noticed Lucrecia cowering in the corner of the room.

The instant she saw him, she cried out, “Roxas! Help me, _please,_ Axel’s lost his –”

“Cut that out!” Axel’s voice snapped across the room like a whip.

“Axel… oh, my God…” Roxas sounded so weak all of a sudden, it made Axel’s heart ache to hear it. “What have you _done?”_

Axel held out one hand, moving slowly, closing the door behind him. “Roxas, just hear me out.”

“Roxas, please – he’s out of his mind,” Lucrecia moaned. “He hurt me, he –”

“I said _shut up,”_ Axel snarled at her, Roxas turning on him with sudden, desperate fury.

“What are you _doing?_ What the hell is this!?”

“She’s the insider,” the redhead quickly said, before Roxas’ agitation could swell any further. “She’s ShinRa.”

Roxas’ teeth clicked audibly shut, all the words that had been crowding to come pouring out all but withering on his tongue. He gaped at Axel, while Lucrecia shook her head, nearly hysterical. “He just snapped, Roxas – he lured me in here, then started accusing me of… of _terrible_ things, and he _hurt_ me, he –”

“How many times,” Axel darkly started, turning towards her and raising his voice, “do I have to tell you to _stop – that?”_ Lucrecia flinched and fell silent, fingers over her lips again. Axel glared at her. “You’ve told him enough lies,Lucrecia.”

Roxas, glancing between them, asked numbly, “What the hell, Axel? How could she be ShinRa? That’s – ridiculous, it’s _stupid,_ she needs for the Research Committee to succeed just as much as Ansem does, she’d never…”

“I have proof,” Axel shortly answered, and from the desk picked up a slip of paper, folded over twice, flattening it out and handing it over. Roxas took it from him hesitantly, holding his gaze for a hesitant moment before looking down at the page, reading through it with bafflement.

Axel saw the distance develop in his eyes, the dullness coming over him. Lucrecia, noticing as well, growing nervous in the stretching silence, asked shakily, “What is that? What did he give you, Roxas?”

When Roxas didn’t respond, Axel turned to her and flatly said, “It’s a print-out from the ShinRa database. It mentions that you are here to watch Roxas when he’s working, with explicit instructions to report in if he makes progress with the cornerstone. It also puts you down as the liaison in charge of communicating with the three guys that have been attacking him for the past half-year.” He smiled, razor thin. “Any more objections to make, Doctor?”

She stared, looking positively – stunned. She had her hands pressed now to her chest, head slowly moving from side to side, as if in denial. “No,” she breathed. “No, that’s impossible. You _can’t_ have…” She stopped abruptly, catching herself before she said anything more incriminating – but the damage was done. Roxas regarded her uncomprehendingly. It was hitting him just as hard as Axel had suspected it would. Damn it – the kid hadn’t had to be a part of this. If only Lucrecia had kept her stupid mouth shut.

“You?” Roxas’ utterance was low, almost defeated. It was worse to hear than if he had started screaming at her. Again, Axel’s chest pulsed, heart aching deeply for the betrayal the blond was suffering.

Lucrecia looked momentarily panicked – trapped – seeking frantically, for a second, for some way of slithering free of this, of turning it around to gain Roxas back on her side, as he had been when he’d first walked through the door. Since reading the print-out, however, that had changed. Realising this, Lucrecia at long last… subsided. The fight seemed to empty out of her, leaving behind a heavy, weary shell. Her eyes darkened. She swayed in place for a moment, then, moving like she had aged several decades, she made her way to the desk chair and lowered herself carefully into it. She gave a sigh so deep it lasted for almost half a minute.

While she collected herself, Axel softly asked Roxas, “Why’d you come back?”

It took a moment for Roxas to respond. Lifting his head, he met Axel’s gaze with some effort. “I wanted to tell you that… I wanted to wait around for you. I’d have been happy just hanging out in here while you did… whatever.” His eyes travelled to Lucrecia, sitting hunched in the chair. “And then… I heard her.” He wiped a hand down his face, Axel feeling a pang at the bewilderment in his expression. “How did it become – this?” He shook his head, exhausted all of a sudden. “I don’t even know what’s really going on. How did you find out it was Lucrecia? Those contacts you mentioned the other night?”

Axel nodded, but Lucrecia said faintly, “No – there’s no way you could have obtained that information. There’s no one that could have entered that deep into ShinRa’s system.”

“They did,” Axel bluntly replied, Lucrecia sending him a blank look. “Maybe ShinRa just isn’t as secure as you would have liked to think when you decided to waltz in here and betray everyone. Not to mention nearly getting Roxas killed.”

Her expression twitched, just once, showing a heartbeat of – remorse. But it was gone again before Axel could really register it, her face slackening. Propping an elbow on the desk, she carefully pressed her fingertips against her forehead and asked in a hoarse mutter, “What now?”

“Answers,” Axel grimly suggested. “I think we’ve waited long enough for them. If I didn’t have my _contacts_ we’d have been waiting forever. So why don’t you just tell us what we want to know, with zero bullshit?” He turned to Roxas. “Would you like the honour of the first question? Since you’re the injured party here.”

Roxas searched himself for a moment. He stared down at his hands, thinking, perhaps remembering all that he had suffered at the hands of the silver-haired trio, the times he had been beaten right here in the Research Committee parking lot, and how Lucrecia had likely facilitated each and every encounter. Even, possibly, the one in which he’d almost died.

At last, all that Roxas could helplessly ask her was a rather predictable, “Why? What did I ever do to you?”

Lucrecia covered her eyes, and again sighed. “Roxas…” She grimaced. “It was nothing personal. I can assure you of that much. It was just – necessary.” She nodded to herself, voice becoming nearly a whisper. “Yes. It was necessary.”

“In what way was it necessary?” Axel asked, before Roxas could respond. “What did you have to gain from all this? And who is behind it, ultimately?”

She smiled a little, looking over at him with an almost drunken expression. He imagined that the shock of having been discovered was doing strange things with her head. “Why should I tell you? You have your print-out. You can expose me. Why should I grant you the satisfaction of having _answers_ to go along with it?”

“Don’t do that.” Roxas’ voice was tight. He sounded upset, but he was keeping it contained, evidence of it arising only when he spoke. “I trusted you. I respected you. It’s not about granting satisfaction, it’s about giving me what I _deserve._ And if you say it wasn’t personal, then I damn well deserve to know what it _was.”_

Axel silently approved. Roxas was very clearly Lucrecia’s weakness in all this. Each time Axel spoke, it was like she would dearly love for him to drop dead and be one less problem in the world; when it came to Roxas, however, she obviously harboured guilt. Whatever she’d agreed to do, harming the kid hadn’t sat well with her. She seemed pained by the treachery.

She folded her fingers over her eyes. “…My reasons won’t matter to you. What’s done is done, that’s all there is to it.”

“They matter,” Roxas stubbornly argued. “It matters to me why you think it was _necessary_ for this to happen. Did you know that even _Axel_ had been dragged into this? That your guys have started harassing _him?”_

“Of course I did,” she replied, impassively. “I advised them to do it. And I thought that…” She glared a little at Axel. “I thought it had started working.”

He shrugged, not the slightest bit displeased that he’d shattered her hopes and aspirations. “I don’t scare so easy, Doc. Better luck in the next life.”

She exhaled a short, irritated breath. Roxas turned to Axel. “So, what do we do?” he asked. “It’s not like there’s anything we _can_ do if she doesn’t talk willingly.”

Axel’s mouth quirked downward. Damn it – if Roxas wasn’t here, there would have been a hell of a _lot_ he could do to make her talk. Physical intimidation was just the tip of the iceberg – he had a veritable raft of interrogation techniques in his repertoire for making unwilling victims spill their guts. But since the kid _was_ here, he had to play pretend, like he was some kind of innocent that had never shot a person’s fingers off before.

“Well…” He thought for a moment, then looked at Lucrecia, who gazed dully back. “Doctor – this doesn’t need to be the end for you, you know,” he carefully said. He gestured to Roxas for the print-out, the blond passing it over with a question in his eyes. Axel approached Lucrecia, smoothing out the sheet of paper and handing it to her. She sent him a resentful glance.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You can see on here that we’ve got you,” Axel pointed out mildly. “I mean, we have _got_ you, there’s no denying that you’re a double-agent of some kind, to use more dramatic terminology. That’s not the only copy I have of that, by the way,” he added, in case she felt like ripping it to pieces.

“I had assumed as much,” she curtly responded.

“Then you’re smarter than –” Ah – he’d almost mentioned that he’d done this sort of thing before. Feeling Roxas’ gaze upon him, he amended it to, “…You’re smarter than most people in your position might be.” He coughed a little, into his fist, then went on, “But see, the thing is, Doc, the thing you _haven’t_ seemed to figure out yet… is that Roxas and I are the only ones who know about this so far.”

She looked at him, saying nothing, apparently not seeing where he was going with this. He sighed.

“Look – Lucrecia – my point is that you’re operating under the assumption that we’re going to turn you in.”

“We’re not?” Roxas sceptically asked, from behind him. Axel held up a finger, silencing him, his gaze fixed on the woman in the chair.

“See, I don’t think for a second that you’re the mastermind in all this, Doctor,” he went on, voice adopting a soft persuasiveness. “It seems to me that you’re as much a pawn as those three brothers you keep having attack Roxas. If we get rid of you – by which I mean, turn you in, with the print-out as our damning piece of evidence – that doesn’t, unfortunately, take care of the _core_ of the problem.” He crouched down slowly, holding the arm of the chair for balance, peering into Lucrecia’s face. She was growing anxious, unable to meet his gaze. He was onto something here. “So even if _you’re_ gone, there’s still someone out there who wants to harm Roxas. Right? This was never your idea, it wasn’t _your_ doing specifically – was it, Doc?”

Behind him, Roxas released a small sound of comprehension. He was on board.

Swallowing, Lucrecia asked tightly, after a moment, “What is it you’re getting at, Axel?”

“…You’re not the fish we’re after. You tell us what we need to know, Doctor, and we don’t ever have to give that print-out to anyone.” He lifted a shoulder, saying, “Okay, so you won’t get off totally unscathed – you’d need to disappear, go somewhere far away, you would _definitely_ need to leave the Cornerstone Project – but it’s better than a career ending in tatters with the possibility of jail time, isn’t it?”

At last, she looked at him. What Axel saw in her eyes, however, was not the sudden glimmer of hope he’d expected – instead, he saw devastation. Hopelessness. Utter defeat. He was taken aback at the sheer depth of the suffering he saw in her, and a moment later, she began to shake her head.

“I can’t,” she said, anguish in her voice, along with a tremor. She closed her eyes tightly, apparently on the brink of tears that Axel didn’t think was some kind of sympathy ploy. Everything about her right now seemed completely genuine. She appeared absolutely torn. “I – _can’t.”_ She slowly dropped her head into her hands.

Turning, Axel saw Roxas watching on with wide eyes. He hadn’t seen Lucrecia like this before, either. He was as surprised by her response as Axel.

“…Why can’t you?” It was Roxas who asked, Axel briefly at a loss for how to proceed. He was very familiar with unhappy, difficult detainees who were _afraid_ to talk – but not this sudden sorrow, this _inability_ to take the easy way out.

Quietly, without drama, Lucrecia started to weep. She simply shook her head again, repeating with a voice thick with despair, “I can’t.”

Axel stood, frowning down at her. “...Have you been made to do this? Is someone threatening you?” That wasn’t a possibility he had considered, but it might make sense – she hadn’t set his alarm bells ringing at any point during his association with her. She just didn’t seem like the double-crossing type. If it was under duress, however…

But Lucrecia, one final time, slowly shook her head. Axel stared at her, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She lowered her hands from her face. “Everything I do,” she said, a ragged edge to her words, “I do… of my own free will.” She sent Roxas a bitter smile. “And I am sorry. I am. What’s been happening to you… I would never do it under ordinary circumstances. Please, believe me.”

“Why the hell would you need for him to believe you?” Axel asked, the words a mutter but his frustration mounting to a sudden fever pitch. He jammed a finger and thumb into the corners of his eyes, rubbing sharply, trying to piece all the crap together feeling like it was ten different jigsaw puzzles all tossed together. “You’re doing bad things to a good person, and you’re well aware of it. You claim that it’s necessary, but you’re not being coerced by anyone; you say it’s of your own free will. However, you are _sorry_ about it, and you want him to acknowledge that, for your own selfish satisfaction, to – what? Ease the guilt?” He opened his eyes, demanding, “Why do you feel guilty? If this is what you’re committed to doing, for reasons that apparently make sense to you, what’s to feel bad about?” He wracked his brains, asked after a pause, drawing from the only thing he himself was familiar with, “Is it because of your work? Is it just necessary for – the Cornerstone Project?”

Maddeningly, Lucrecia again indicated no with a shake of her head.

“God – _damn it,_ Lucrecia,” Axel snarled, losing patience with the whole ridiculous situation, “use words! If you shake your head at me _one more time,_ so fucking help me, I will –”

“Axel.” Roxas, who had been silent for a while, stopped him with a briefly spoken word. He turned to look at Roxas, who wore a troubled frown. He was studying Lucrecia closely, looking like he was searching for something. Eventually, he said, “Doctor, I don’t know what your motivation is in all this. I can’t figure it out. But the fact of the matter is that it’s all over for you, no matter what you do. You see that, don’t you? Whatever you think justifies what you’re doing… it’s done for. If we expose you, you’ll never work in research again. Not even ShinRa would be allowed to hire you, they’d lose too much face. They already will if this comes out, and they’re not going to try to defend you. You’re their dirty secret, right? They’ll abandon you in a heartbeat.” As she lowered her head, he went on, “So why continue to cover it up? Why hide it from us? From me? Everything you’ve done this for is already lost.”

“No!” The word burst out of her, her head snatching up from its sunken position, eyes wide. “No, it’s not lost!”

“How do you expect to do anything when you’re probably going to prison?” Roxas demanded. “Lucrecia, for God’s sake – _look_ at the situation you’re in. This isn’t in the shadows anymore! Whatever drove you to do all this, you can’t _do_ anything anymore once it all comes out! You’ll be removed from the project, you’ll be prosecuted, and nobody will be able to come after me anymore, because everyone will know if I get hurt that ShinRa is behind it. Whatever role I’m playing in all this – it ends _tonight,_ and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He spoke passionately, Axel marvelling at his ability to speak with such raw clarity under the circumstances. It was reaching her, too – he could see, bit by bit, Lucrecia’s resistance crumbling. A little part of him felt that Roxas would have made an excellent addition to the Organisation, if he hadn’t had such strong morals. The kid could have made angels give up the secrets of heaven, and had already proven he could make demons worship the ground he walked on, Axel being the wicked entity in question. There was no stratum he couldn’t touch if he tried.

Lucrecia whimpered, “Roxas, _please…”_

“No,” he firmly said. “That’s _my_ line.” He went to her, bobbed down and placed his hands on her knees. Looking up into her face, he asked earnestly, _“Please,_ Lucrecia – at least tell me _why.”_

She started weeping again, fat, silent tears sliding down her face. Lifting her eyes, she released a breath, wiping her cheeks with short motions. “Oh, I wish I wasn’t crying. This is ridiculous.” She sniffed, making an effort to pull herself together, and said, her gaze still upward, “I have a lover. A man named Vincent. He worked for ShinRa.”

Roxas’ face dimmed. “So you’re doing it for some guy?”

She lowered her eyes to him quickly. “No!” She then hesitated. “Well, yes, but… it’s not like that.” Another couple of tears leaked from her eyes, her knuckles rubbing them away before they’d got halfway down her face. “Vincent was a ShinRa employee, but not in research – he was security. He was high up the ladder, but he had integrity, he never showed any interest in my research, and I never spoke of it with him. We both knew that for the relationship to work, we needed to keep that separate from our lives. He never wanted me to doubt him, you see.” She smiled weakly, but it flickered away barely a second later. The heaviness returned to her expression, along with a hollowness around her eyes. “Then… came… the accident. It was around… nine months ago.”

Axel nodded slightly; eight months ago was six weeks before Roxas first started being attacked. It made sense that the two were connected.

Roxas asked, “What happened?”

Lucrecia drew a shuddering breath. “He was working, and got injured. Badly… injured.” Her chin trembled. “He was shot through the spine. He’s been in a coma ever since. He won’t… wake up.”

Axel frowned. “All right. How does that relate to Roxas?”

She smiled thinly, almost wildly. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“I have.” Their gazes went to Roxas at his quiet murmur. He looked up into Lucrecia’s damp face. “You want me to charge the cornerstone so the project will move ahead and your lover can be healed.”

She bit her lip hard, and nodded. After a moment, releasing her tooth-marked lip, she shakily said, “Ansem – doesn’t believe that the cornerstone responds sufficiently to emotion. ShinRa believes – the opposite. Their head researcher… Hojo… thinks that powerful emotion will do it. And…” She met Roxas’ eyes helplessly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “There is no greater emotion than the desire to live.”

Roxas turned away, expression grim, eyes hooded. She faltered, the hand dropping back to her lap.

“I’m aware that it escalated each time,” she said, softly. “When it all started – when Hojo approached me, proposing the experiment –”

“‘Experiment’,” Axel angrily muttered. He shook his head. “You _do_ know they hospitalised him, right?”

Lucrecia glanced at him sharply. “Of course I know. I was devastated.”

“But you kept trying it,” Roxas evenly said, calmer about all this, at least externally, than Axel, “and it got worse each time.”

She nodded. “But you never ended up back in hospital. I could never figure out that part. I wanted so badly to know how you kept on being… okay… but I couldn’t ask you, and Hojo didn’t care. Unless we had news that your fragment of cornerstone had been purified...”

Startled, Roxas demanded, “You knew that I had my own fragment?”

She smiled at him, almost pityingly. “Roxas, you were selected for this project because of your affinity with the stone. Once Hojo knew how intense your connection with cornerstone was, he knew that if anyone was going to manage to charge it, it would be you. Did you think it was a happy accident that the piece you have ended up in your bag?”

Roxas stared. “…You? You – put it there?”

She wiped the last of the moisture from her cheeks. “You were so fascinated by the stones. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to assume that once you had a piece in your possession, you would likely hold onto it.”

Roxas’ eyes widened – then he dropped his head, and gave a small, incredulous laugh. “Wow. Well. You sure got me there.” He went silent. The depths of what he had been involved in seemed to be hitting him gradually, but hard. “So I was just being used from the start. All of this was so that ShinRa could test their theory on someone with a high affinity, and you played along so that someday your lover could be revived.” He shook his head, looking a little dazed by the revelation. Again, he said, “Wow.”

Quietly, Lucrecia said, “I am sorry that you were hurt.”

“But not enough,” Roxas shortly answered.

She held his gaze. “…No. I suppose not.” When Roxas looked away, she shifted her stare to Axel. “So, what now? Are you going to call the police?”

Axel shrugged. “I guess so. We’ve got no further use for you. You fucked up pretty good by getting involved with those guys, Lucrecia.”

“I did it for Vincent,” she said, and whatever remorse Axel had seen in her at the beginning was gone. She believed in what she had done. He supposed she must just love the guy that much. For a second, he almost identified with her – if Roxas got hurt, and Axel had the means to try and bring him back…

But wait, that was stupid. He was here to _kill_ Roxas, for Christ’s sake, he couldn’t start thinking about what lengths he’d go to to bring the kid back. Hell, at least Lucrecia had had something the slightest bit noble behind what she was doing – what was keeping Axel here, performing his so-called duty? Money? Was this duty to his bank account, at the end of the day?

He studied Roxas for a long moment, feeling the weight of the difference in how much he gave a shit about money, and how much he cared for the kid. He closed his eyes, gave himself a mental slap. _Stop that._ This was temporary. The life he lived through the Organisation was worth more than a short-term fling. And that was, there could be no doubt, what this was.

Anyway, what Lucrecia felt for Vincent was love. How could Axel identify with that, when all he felt for Roxas was…

Uh, it was…

“I have an idea.”

Axel blinked, looking over at Roxas, his heart in sudden, thundering chaos. “Wh-what? An idea?”

Roxas was gazing hard at Lucrecia. He had lowered himself onto one knee, either because his legs were tired from being in a crouch or because her admission had weakened him somewhat. The expression on his face, however, was anything but weak.

“If this comes out, the Cornerstone Project will all but collapse,” Roxas stated. “By the time we picked up the pieces – _if_ we were able to – ShinRa would have had all the time in the world to jump ahead of us. You didn’t just screw me over with what you did – you sold out the entire Research Committee. You betrayed _everyone.”_

Lucrecia accepted this with a mere thinning of lips. She knew. She just hadn’t cared enough, placing everyone else’s hopes and dreams against her deep need to regain the man she loved. It was both pitiful and somewhat romantic, if in a very ‘fuck everybody else’ kind of way.

“I don’t want that.” Roxas’ voice was strong with determination. “I don’t want _my_ career starting off like that, and I don’t want the others to have to suffer a setback like that. Not to mention how terrible it would be for them to learn what you did. And Ansem – he’s an ass, but he’s brilliant. But do you think he’ll ever trust anyone again after this? Do you think we could _ever_ really recover?”

Axel and Lucrecia were sharing a mutual confusion right now, Axel asking dubiously, “Roxas, what are you saying? You want to – just let her go?”

Roxas drew a breath. “Only in the way that you mentioned before. I want her to go away. I don’t want this to ever come to light. Or at least, not for a long time.”

Swallowing, Lucrecia started to shake her head, saying, “Roxas, no – I can’t. Vincent is here in Archades, I’m not going to just –”

“You know what? Axel’s right. Stop shaking your head all the time. It’s annoying,” Roxas cut her off impatiently. “And if you think I didn’t already consider that, you’re still underestimating me, just like you have been from the moment you decided it was a good idea to try and half-kill me to get your boyfriend back. You know what I think of that? _Fuck_ Vincent. That’s what I think of that. How dare you come after me, hurt _me,_ just because you can’t handle losing someone you love?”

She attempted to break in, protesting, “Roxas –”

“Lucrecia, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I did, you said it, and now I know. Lucky me.” He scowled at her, anger finally bubbling up, but still tempered by something else. It wasn’t anger that was the dominant emotion here, not yet. “So now, you owe me, is what I figure. _What_ you owe me, and everyone else in the Research Committee – and Axel, too –” He glanced in Axel’s direction, apparently not ready to forgive the woman for the fact that they had started going after him, as well. “- what you owe _all_ of us is to disappear, as quickly and quietly as possible. You don’t tell ShinRa, you don’t tell Ansem – you just _go.”_ Before Lucrecia could once again point out that she wasn’t going anywhere while Vincent was in hospital, Roxas held up a hand, silencing her protests first with a gesture, then with the words, “I might be able to heal him.”

The room went still. Axel stared, Lucrecia stared, Roxas stared back resolutely. Faintly, the woman eventually asked, “Wh-what? What are you saying, Roxas?”

“You wanted to know how I kept being ‘okay’ despite the increasing severity of the attacks? I mean, when I _didn’t_ have Axel leaping in to save my butt,” he bitingly added. She nodded despite herself. “It’s the cornerstone fragment, Lucrecia.”

“Roxas,” Axel uncertainly asked, “are you sure you wanna…?”

“If it gets her out of our lives, then yes.” To Lucrecia, Roxas said, “It isn’t charged, nothing you people have done to me has caused me to unwittingly charge it. But I _did_ discover that I can use it in a more immediate sense. I can heal with it, Lucrecia. Not only myself, but other people. It’s just me bringing out the stone’s latent ability, but it works. Whenever your guys came after me, I would patch myself up afterward with the stone. And Axel – he got stabbed, and I healed that, too.” He gazed at her grimly, holding her full, astounded attention. “I’m not making any guarantees, because I don’t know how much it can do for some guy who’s been comatose for nine months – but I can try. And if I do, if I can make Vincent better, you have to _leave._ Even if he’s only awake, but still hurt, take him somewhere _else,_ to some other town in some other part of the world. Anywhere but _here._ Do you agree?”

Lucrecia struggled for words for a long, stretching minute. “Are you – telling me the truth?” she eventually managed.

“I am.” Roxas’ tone was absolute, the last of her doubt melting away, amazement in its place.

“Then – I agree. Oh, Roxas. Oh.”

“Don’t look so grateful. I’m not doing it for you,” he grudgingly muttered, glancing away. He pushed to his feet, looking over his shoulder at Axel. “So? Are you in on this?”

Axel could only lift his shoulders in something like a shrug. “I’d like to see you try and leave me behind.”

Roxas nodded decisively. “Good. Then – let’s get out here, and get this done.”

 

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

With a snap, Axel shut off the security monitors. He would need to make sure Lucrecia left a note before she left town, so that she didn’t become a missing person last captured on camera leaving the building with two of her male colleagues. It would be too easy for such footage to be misconstrued, and that was a mess he didn’t want for either Roxas or himself.

He glanced at the blond, who stood by Lucrecia as she pushed herself unsteadily from the chair. The determination remained on his face, making it harder than usual, although not in necessarily a negative way – there was a strength about him right now that Axel admired. It was a fierceness of spirit that refused to be pushed down by what he had learned – he just wanted to protect people, now. Himself, sure, but also Ansem, and the project itself. He wanted to shore up the weaknesses left by Lucrecia’s actions, and make certain no one else got harmed by her selfishness. There was nothing about the kid that didn’t amaze him. Every time he turned around, he felt like he was discovering some new facet of Roxas that he hadn’t expected to find.

That… wasn’t the reason why his heard throbbed each time he looked at Roxas, though. Well, it contributed, sure, but… ever since he had started thinking about Lucrecia with her guy Vincent, and what depth of feeling it would take to do what she’d done… his brain had kind of – shuddered to a halt. It sent a queer numbness through him, from head to toe, that he couldn’t quite figure out. He experienced all the usual symptoms he got when he thought too hard about Roxas – the dry mouth, the suddenly slippery hands, the tingle in both his fingertips and stomach – but something else was accompanying it all. The non-stop thump of his heart and near-dizziness was a little on the new side. He’d felt them before, sure, but not at this – intensity.

Now… was not the time to be wrestling with something like this. But every time he looked over at Roxas to centre himself, to try and get back on track, it just got more vivid.

“Axel?” He nearly jumped, whipping towards Roxas, a thin, automatic smile in place. “You ready?” The kid was looking at him dubiously, like maybe he was spacing out a little too obviously.

“Ready – yeah.” He cast a look askance at Lucrecia, who held her hands clasped tightly together, expression focused. All sign of the earlier tears were gone; even her attitude had made a drastic about-face. It felt wrong, giving her what she wanted after everything she’d put Roxas through – but hey, maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe Vincent would continue to lie there like a lump, and she’d just suffer twice the devastation.

That actually made Axel feel worse. Again, his gaze flickered to Roxas. He wiped his mouth, dragged his hand down his chin, and nodded. “Okay.” He mentally shook himself. _Not the time. Not now._ He drew on a little of the grimness of his professional self, used it to come to his senses a little and start leading. Roxas was doing great – but he didn’t have the know-how to get this done right.

“We’re going to each take our own car,” he instructed the other two. “Lucrecia, what hospital is Vincent at?”

“Saint Jenova’s.” She was practically breathless as she spoke it. The hope in her eyes was discomforting, now that he’d considered the possibility that it mightn’t work.

“Okay. Roxas, you know the way there?” he asked. The kid grimaced.

“Sure. It’s where I was sent after the first attack.”

That sure as hell doused whatever weird-ass sympathy Axel had been starting to develop for the woman. He scowled. “Right. Well, then, you can take point. You lead the way. Lucrecia follows you – I take the rear.” He met Lucrecia’s gaze, warning, “If you decide to suddenly make a getaway, I’m telling you now: I’m a better driver than you. I can keep up. Hell, I’ll run you off the road if I have to.”

A slightly defiant glare entered her eyes. She still didn’t forgive him for the ruse that got her in here, or the fact that he’d roughed her up a little. “I have no intention of trying to slip away.” She inhaled deeply, like there wasn’t quite enough air in the world to keep her going right now. “And besides, if this – if this _works…”_

“Let’s get going,” Roxas said, flatly cutting her off. He didn’t want to contemplate the idea that it might notwork any more than Axel did. Something about this whole situation was just a bit… too awful to take any vindictive satisfaction from. If this didn’t work, it was a bad scenario all around. Neither of them was going to feel too good at the end of the night if Lucrecia’s lover didn’t wake up.

The tension was palpable as Axel unlocked the office door and let the other two out into the corridor, Roxas first. Whatever Lucrecia might say, they still had to take precautions. The blond took the lead, Axel locking the guard station after them and following Lucrecia’s long ponytail down to the elevator. The ride up was made in grim silence. Talk about a fun night out.

They crossed the parking lot, Roxas going to his little yellow car while Axel stood beside Lucrecia’s gleaming Mercedes and held the door as she climbed in. Before he closed it, her ankles neatly within the vehicle, he cautioned one last time, “Don’t try to speed off anywhere, Doc. I’ll be right behind you.”

She glowered dully up at him. “…You know, I had this one moment when we first met where I wondered about you. There’s something not quite right about you. Tonight, I feel like I witnessed that other side of you, the part that’s underneath while you’re smiling away, being nice to everyone.”

“Well, then, I guess that makes two of us, Doc,” Axel drawled, and without another word sharply shut the door.

He trotted over to Roxas, who wound down his window as Axel approached. Bending, the redhead placed his hands upon the door’s edge and asked, quietly so that it wouldn’t carry in the echoing parking lot, “Are you doing okay?”

The car idling, Roxas looked up at him, and for a second, Axel could see that he wasn’t particularly okay, behind all the sudden forceful decisiveness. But he’d hold out until it was over. “I’m all right.”

Nodding – sending him a look that was both understanding and encouraging – Axel patted the car. “Okay. That’s all I need. Call me on my cell if you think anything’s going funny with Lucrecia.”

“You do the same,” Roxas said. Axel straightened, and was halfway over to his car when the blond, hanging out of the window, called sharply, “Hey! Axel!” He stopped, turned around. “Get her phone,” Roxas suggested. “Make sure she can’t call those – guys. The silver-haired ones.”

“Always with the smart ideas,” Axel admiringly called back, and gave a two-fingered salute, making a bee-line for Lucrecia’s car. He rapped on the window, and as it lowered commanded, “Phone. Now.”

She fished it out of her bag and handed it over without argument. “I’m not going to jeopardise my one chance to get Vincent back,” she told him.

“Better safe than sorry, Doc.” He palmed the phone. “You’ll get it back after.”

“After…” she murmured, hands tightening around the steering wheel, eyes growing distant as she perhaps imagined a near-future in which her lover was back in the land of the living. She nodded faintly.

With a sigh, Axel jogged over to his rental, unlocked it and climbed in, starting up the engine and giving it a couple of revs to signal Roxas that he was ready. Taking his cue, the kid got his car moving. Lucrecia followed, and Axel slowly rolled after her, the three of them moving like a mismatched cavalcade.

Axel’s eyes were glued to the rear of Lucrecia’s car, taillights aglow, as they emerged from the parking lot, up into the quiet, pre-dawn streets of Archades’ business district. If she was going to try anything, it’d most likely be now – once they got onto the highway, the side roads she could speed down and lose him through would be gone. He was ready, an electric tingle of excitement getting ready in his blood to spur him onward for the chase…

But it never came. As Roxas indicated to go left, Lucrecia’s blinker came obediently on, her car turning after his with nary a flicker of hesitation. It seemed she’d spoken honestly: she wasn’t about to screw up what was maybe her one and only chance here. She wanted her lover back so badly, she’d thrown her entire career and potentially those of the people around her to the ShinRa lions. She wasn’t going to try and run away from Roxas doing his magic rock trick. And as far as Axel was concerned, if Roxas couldn’t do this, maybe it just couldn’t be done. Maybe Lucrecia, deep down, fearfully felt the same.

He relaxed a little, remaining cautious but backing off somewhat, so that a sudden stop wouldn’t insert his rental up her exhaust pipe. In this manner, in a short, loose line, they made their way uneventfully through the city. Axel glanced every now and then at the clock, rubbing his eyes, propping his elbow up on the window and resting his head on his fist. What a long night this had turned out to be. Roxas must have been exhausted; ordinarily, he’d have been home and in bed by now. Then again, if everything had gone smoothly, Axel would have been in bed _with_ him, so… he probably wasn’t losing any sleep right now that he wouldn’t have been anyway.

Kind of a less pleasant way to lose it, though.

He fought the yawn that was building somewhere between his throat and his chest and kept his eyes fixed firmly on both the road and Lucrecia. Up ahead, Roxas was doing a good job of being in charge of this game of follow the leader, making sure that he slowed down at sets of lights so he wouldn’t risk leaving anyone behind if the light turned red on a whim. He had good instincts. Axel again thought almost wistfully of what it might be like to have Roxas in the Organisation. Imagine: the two of them performing the same jobs, a perfect team with Roxas as the brains and Axel as the killing hand. Then, afterwards, they could go back to Axel’s apartment – his real apartment, the expensive one in the good part of town, which he’d bought himself, in his own timeline – and just… fuck all the adrenaline out of their systems. Bask in each other for a while, drink the other in.

Jesus. He was hit with a bolt of yearning so hard it was suddenly difficult to breathe. _Shit._ Now – was _not_ the time for such fantasies. And besides… who was he kidding, anyway? Roxas was a nice guy – a _good_ guy. He wasn’t the type to end up entangled in assassinations… not as anything but the target.

Gloom settled slowly over Axel as he continued to keep pace with the two cars in front. With the streets as quiet as they were at half-past four in the morning, it took a mere fifteen minutes to get to Saint Jenova’s hospital, a hulking collection of buildings straddling the line between the business district and Hightown. The three of them parked a little distance away from the emergency entrance, the main doors locked down for the night. As they climbed out into the cool air, Roxas said, his voice sounding small and insignificant in the darkness and space of the parking lot, “I thought we’d be better off out of the way. These aren’t exactly visiting hours. We don’t want to alert the hospital security.”

Axel sighed. Again, good forward thinking from the kid. He had to stop musing about how much the Organisation prized talents like that. Hell, even if Axel nominated him, they wouldn’t take Roxas on – the blond was slated for elimination. Nothing changed that, not even the prospect of a potential agent going utterly to waste.

“Axel?” Roxas spoke his name softly, beside the rental now, having come over while the redhead was deep in thought. He blinked, head popping up with an automatic smile. The kid had his backpack on, studying Axel over the car’s roof with inquisitive, slightly concerned eyes.

“Oh – sorry. Got lost for a second there.”

Lucrecia, not paying the slightest bit of attention to their exchange, turned and tightly said, “We need to get to the third floor. It will be quiet inside – I stayed here for several nights after… when Vincent was first injured. The staff is minimal. If we avoid the nurses’ station, we should remain unseen.”

“Yeah, except by the cameras,” Axel pointed out.

“It doesn’t matter.” Lucrecia’s face was tight, pale. She held her bag on one shoulder, knuckles white around the strap. “If anyone stops us, just blame it on me. Tell them I want to see him. They know my face well enough around here.”

Roxas and Axel exchanged a glance, Axel then nodding. “Okay. That’s the plan, then. Let’s try to go without being spotted, but we’ve got our story straight if anyone comes along.”

The three of them crossed the parking lot, shoes scraping against the bitumen, towards the brightly lit emergency department. By this time of night, most of the major injuries had already happened – accidents, illnesses, heart attacks – and the place had a hushed, almost tranquil aura, like the calm _after_ a storm. They entered through the sliding glass doors, avoiding the triage station and heading onward with a sense of purpose that hopefully nobody would second-guess. They passed curtained bays, temporary beds for those brought in during the night, from which they could occasionally hear quiet voices or groans.

They managed to get through the department without anyone noticing their presence. Once they found the elevators, Lucrecia knew her way around. She seemed far too familiar with the place, in a sad sort of way. She pressed the button for the third floor with authority, and once they stepped out onto it, took the lead. Axel glanced over his shoulder at Roxas, who followed close behind him. The kid met his gaze, the expression on his face hard to read – like it didn’t quite know where to settle. Axel figured his face probably looked about the same. The only constant for either of them was the mounting feeling of apprehension: they were both kind of terrified this wasn’t going to work. They had both seen the hope in Lucrecia’s eyes, and cringed at the thought that this might not work out.

Still, they had no choice now but to keep it up until they knew one way or the other. Axel reached back, found Roxas’ hand, and hooked his fingers in a quick, reassuring squeeze. Maybe it didn’t make the kid feel any better, but hopefully he’d at least know he wasn’t doing this alone. Roxas’ cool fingers squeezed back, and for a silent minute they walked hand-in-hand, keeping it subtle so Lucrecia wouldn’t see. No point in rubbing it in that they had each other while she had a half-dead guy in a hospital bed.

Then, at last, the sound of Lucrecia’s heels, which had been clicking a constant rhythm this entire time, faltered. She came to a stop outside room ‘121’, and turned to look at them. Roxas gave his hand one more press, and let go. The look on the woman’s face was almost painful to witness. That kind of need – that pain… it wasn’t anything Axel ever wanted to feel. He glanced away, unable to handle the depth of her emotion. Roxas, tougher by far, looked her right in the eyes and asked, “In here?”

Already trembling, Lucrecia mutely nodded and stepped back, allowing Roxas to open the door and enter. She followed him in, Axel the last to enter, checking to make sure they hadn’t been spotted before quietly drawing the door shut behind them.

The room was dark until Lucrecia went to the bed and switched on the dim reading lamp suspended over the patient’s head. The first thing any of them saw, as a result, was Vincent – bloodless-looking, with smudges under his eyes so dark they almost looked like they’d been deliberately applied with stage makeup. His hair was long and greasy-looking, like it had just been growing and growing since he got here. He looked painfully thin – all that was keeping him alive was a series of tubes, which led to and from various parts of his body. He was breathing on his own, at least; Axel didn’t know at this point what was a good sign and what wasn’t, for a guy like this.

Dragging his gaze from Vincent, Axel gave the room a quick scan. It was standard hospital decorating: pale pastel walls, a generic painting of flowers, a dormant TV bolted in place up near the ceiling. Nothing extraordinary.

Keeping his voice low, but feeling safer now that they had got this far unmolested, Axel asked, “How frequently do the nurses make their rounds, do you know?”

Lucrecia seemed to struggle to make sense of his words, her eyes fixed on the man in the bed with a wretched expression he had been glimpsing more and more as the night wore on. After a moment, she cleared her throat, answering faintly, “Not often for Vincent. Perhaps twice a night, to check his vitals and change his fluid bags. It’s usually around… midnight and six.”

Pleased with this information, Axel looked over at Roxas. “That gives us a decent window to get this done.” Sobering a little, he asked, “Are you ready?”

Grimly, Roxas merely sent him a flickering glance that said it all, then turned his attention to the unconscious man. “Um, is there a chair or something that I can…?” Lucrecia swiftly retrieved one from the corner of the room, placing it at Vincent’s bedside, which Roxas sat upon both awkwardly and heavily. He looked damn near about to panic. It seemed the weight of his offer to Lucrecia was starting to catch up with him – he was feeling it more and more acutely now that he was actually here, _looking_ at the guy he’d so rashly proposed to wake from his nearly year-long comatose state. A severed spine – it was a far cry from a knife in the ass, or garrotte marks. Roxas knew it. Axel knew it. Lucrecia… did not. She stood to one side, watching on raptly, hands tight together.

Exhaling slowly, Roxas unslung his backpack, zipped it open and dug through to the bottom to retrieve the shard of cornerstone he had appropriated – or been slipped, Axel supposed – all those months ago. It was in the same felt bag that Axel remembered, Roxas holding it on his hand for a long moment, face stiff. Knowing he couldn’t avoid it, he tugged back the fabric, tilted the chunk of rock out onto his palm, fingers wrapping around it. He looked nauseous.

He looked hesitantly over at Lucrecia, tightened his grip on the cornerstone, and sat forward. Holding the rock loosely between both hands, he rested it on Vincent’s leg, dipped his head, seemed to think about it, and a moment later stood up. “Where – whereabouts on his spine is the…?” He couldn’t finish the question, mouth seeming to dry right up. Lucrecia placed her hands around his and guided them gently to a place on Vincent’s abdomen.

“It’s there,” she said, voice little more than a whisper.

Roxas swallowed, muttered, “Thanks,” and shut his eyes again.

This time, Axel had a front seat view of the process. He stood leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed, watching intently as Roxas took several slow, deep breaths and attempted to concentrate. His feet shifted a little, nervousness showing. His throat bobbed visibly as again he swallowed, but Axel saw the moment in which he finally pushed it all aside and really put his all into it. A small crease appeared between his brows, at the same time that his expression eased a little, losing some of its rigidity as his focus went into the cornerstone. How a person ‘brought out’ the latent abilities of a chunk of mineral he couldn’t begin to guess at, but Roxas was obviously not fettered by such doubts. It must have been that ‘high affinity’ thing that everyone valued so much. Whatever form of communication the kid had with the rock… it got results.

The tension faded from Roxas’ face as his concentration increased. Axel watched as his hands gradually stopped shaking, as his breaths became steady and deep. It was like he could see Roxas channelling himself into the stone itself. And then – a familiar sight. A glint from inside the kid’s hands. Lucrecia saw it, too, and stifled a gasp. A few seconds passed, then another glint came, the cornerstone kicking into gear as Roxas coaxed it to life. Axel stared hard, not wanting to miss a moment of the process. While Lucrecia’s gaze darted between the rock and Vincent, Axel kept his zeroed in on the blond. He got the feeling he was witnessing a hidden moment in history, something the books had never got their hands on but which had happened behind the scenes, unknown to nearly everyone.

Soon, the cornerstone began to glow, as Axel recalled from when it had been used on him. Now, its heat would be spreading through Vincent’s body. That healing light, that tingle of energy as broken things were knitted back together – Axel remembered it well. He could almost feel it, all over again, a shiver sending goosebumps racing up his back and along his arms.

Roxas remained perfectly still, all his being invested right now in the cornerstone. For several heartbeats, everything seemed normal enough – but then Axel saw the kid twitch, saw his lips part with a quickly hitched breath, the frown of concentration shifting slightly to become almost pained. The light from the cornerstone strengthened. Axel straightened slowly from the wall, uncertain as to what was happening. Roxas hadn’t looked like that when he’d closed the knife wound on Axel; neither had the rock. The glow it exuded was developing an almost orange intensity, Roxas gradually baring his teeth. Something… wasn’t right here.

As Axel took a sudden step towards the bed, Lucrecia jumped a little, asked, sounding spooked, “What? What is it? Is something going wrong?”

“I don’t…” Axel took another step forward. “Roxas? Can you hear me?”

The kid hissed out a breath from between his teeth, brows contracting sharply. He looked like he was in pain. The light from the cornerstone grew stronger.

“Roxas!”

Axel was at his side in a heartbeat, hands hovering but not entirely sure what to do. Should he yank Roxas away? Stop this? He heard a low groan start, deep in Roxas’ throat, and saw the kid start to lean back. He looked as though something was pulling at him from the front, some invisible force sucking him in that he was resisting.

Axel made his decision. “Shit, I’m sorry, Lucrecia, but I’ve gotta –”

As he was reaching for Roxas, Lucrecia cried, _“No!”_

Roxas, at the same time, grated, _“Don’t.”_ He was still aware, then. Axel froze, a mere inch away from grabbing hold of him. Sounding like he was wading through the thickest of mires, Roxas forced out, _“Nearly – there…”_

Axel remained in place right next to him, hands still outstretched, ready to snatch him away regardless of his wishes if it looked like things were going to go south. He didn’t like the toll this was taking on Roxas – like he was giving his own life force, through the stone, to try and save someone who probably should have died months ago. They didn’t owe this to Lucrecia – nobody did. She’d brought everything on herself, yet here Roxas was, sacrificing – _something –_ to bring back the guy who’d driven her to do it all. Axel couldn’t let Roxas get hurt for her sake, no matter what. But the kid had told him to back off, right? So all he could do was wait, the most helpless he’d ever been in his life, hoping like hell that Roxas wasn’t going to just collapse into a coma of his own once this was done, as if by some terrible trade. He felt a wild fury swell in him at the thought, shooting Lucrecia a murderous look, the woman noticing it and shrinking away from the ferocity in his eyes.

Both were then distracted, however, by the cornerstone: both their gazes swung around as the cornerstone, its light beginning to grow brighter, hotter, started to give off the glints again – like sparks, almost. Before, it had been like it was starting up – now, it was like the damn thing was overheating, with Roxas attached to it.

“Roxas?” Axel spoke his name apprehensively, the kid letting out a low hiss in response. Axel’s alarm mounted. This was getting – freaky. He didn’t know what was happening anymore, and he doubted Roxas did, either. _That does it._ He was giving it ten more seconds of this bullshit, and then he was just going to drag Roxas away, whatever the consequences. He was _not_ about to let the kid damage himself doing this, and things, he was pretty fucking sure, were getting _way_ out of hand.

Silently, he started counting – _one, two, three –_ the cornerstone was flashing its little sparks all over, glimpses of them visible from between Roxas’ fingers, the glow looking red-hot now – _four, five, six –_ Roxas’ chin dropped, his face popping sweat like he was running some kind of marathon – _seven, eight, nine –_ Axel prepared himself, muscles bunching, hands ready to grab Roxas and snatch him away, Lucrecia could go fuck herself for all he cared, the entire Research Committee could cram into Ansem’s car and drive off a cliff, what mattered here was _Roxas –_

And with a high, sharp sound, the cornerstone broke. The light vanished in an instant, leaving the room abruptly dimmer. Pieces of the rock crumbled from Roxas’ hands, and then he was sagging, keeling over to one side. Axel, already poised beside him, acted fast enough to grab him before he got too far away, catching him by the shoulders and tugging him in towards his chest. Roxas’ legs were like rubber; they weren’t supporting a damn thing. If he’d been larger and heavier, Axel might have dropped him. The redhead guided him quickly into the chair beside the bed, pushing the hanging hair from Roxas’ eyes, fingers coming away moist with the kid’s perspiration.

“Roxas!”

Lucrecia, her hands clutched high near her throat, was asking, “What just happened? What does this mean?”

Axel ran his hands around Roxas’ face, cupping them to hold the kid’s head upright, ignoring her completely and repeating, “Roxas?” He thumbed up one of the kid’s heavy eyelids, and, to his utmost relief, saw cognizance underneath.

“…’m here,” Roxas mumbled. Axel’s heart couldn’t have been beating faster. The knot in his chest subsided, his head sinking, a low rush of air bursting from his lips.

“Jesus, kid!”

Roxas gave something that might have been a dry cough or a faint chuckle, Axel couldn’t tell. But he was conscious – he was alert. He bent low, resting his forehead against the crown of Roxas’ damp hair, gripping the kid’s shoulders, which felt smaller than usual, he was sure. Roxas was utterly drained. Whatever had just happened with the cornerstone – it had taken everything he had to hang on as long as he did. And now the damn thing was broken. Roxas slowly opened one hand, opening his eyes with effort to look down at the cracked remains of what hadn’t simply crumbled away. His fingers twitched.

“I guess I can’t fix you up if you get stabbed again,” he murmured. Axel gave a small, voiceless laugh.

“I guess I’ll just have to try and avoid it, then,” he answered. He lifted himself from Roxas, the kid looking up at him with a tired, rueful little smile. Axel ruffled his hair a little, twisted it into even more of a mess, then, when Roxas made a face and leaned away, dutifully smoothed it back into place.

From behind, Axel heard Lucrecia’s shaking, paper-thin voice: “Vincent?”

He stiffened. _Oh. That’s right._ He met Roxas’ eyes reluctantly, the kid looking suddenly worried, resting a hand against his thigh and leaning around him as Axel turned, the pair of them seeking her out, dread in their hearts.

Axel felt Roxas’ fingers tighten around his leg, even as he himself felt his mind grind to a halt at the sight of the nearly translucent, dark-haired Vincent… carefully sitting up in the bed.

Roxas choked out, _“Axel…!”_

Staring, the man could only nod. “Yeah. I see it.”

Lucrecia, trembling visibly all over, made her way to the bed, reaching for Vincent, who looked blankly confused. He gazed about slowly, eyes trailing around the room like his brain was lagging several seconds behind. Then, he saw Lucrecia, and recognition finally touched his features. Sounding gutturally hoarse – like anyone might after nine months of not using their voice – he uttered, “Lucre…cia?”

In the next moment, he was gently enfolded in her arms. Her face was as stricken as his, a temporary vacuum in expression as neither of them knew what to make of the situation they found themselves in. She buried herself gradually into his long hair, his bone-like arms rising to hesitantly hold her.

Axel felt a touch against his fingers and looked down to find Roxas leaning against him, completely fatigued, but radiating a sense of great lightness. Axel didn’t even need to see his face to know that he was smiling broadly. He gave a slight smile of his own, pleased for the kid, and glad that he hadn’t had to endure the sorrow of this not having worked. He petted Roxas’ head, not quite able to grasp the fact that the kid had practically worked a miracle. The cornerstone was dead, but what it had _achieved_ before that happened was beyond incredible. Axel, of everyone here, should have been the least surprised by this; he was from a time when the Cornerstone Theory had long been proven to be accurate – the stones were frequently used to concoct elixirs that were for precisely this sort of situation, more or less. He knew better than any of them what they could do, because he’d witnessed the results of all the research first-hand. But even so…

Even so, Roxas had saved a life with that chunk of rock. He had healed himself, had healed Axel, and now had pretty much put someone back together. Axel could scarcely believe it. He looked down, the blond now wiping his hands clumsily over his weary face. Those hands had helped save a life. He then looked at his own hands, on Roxas’ shoulders where they had unconsciously settled. Those hands – they belonged to a killer. The distance between the two of them… it was a yawning chasm.

Then Roxas lifted his head, grinning like all his birthdays had come at once, and Axel couldn’t help but brush one of those killer’s hands down the kid’s cheek. “You did it.”

“Yeah. Somehow.” Nothing was suppressing that beaming smile. Axel, feeling like a knife was dragging down his insides, bent and tenderly kissed him, tasting a little of what that kind of elation was like. Roxas closed his eyes, the touch of his lips tender as he kissed him back. For the briefest of instances, they existed alone in the world.

“Roxas.”

Lucrecia brought them back. Axel withdrew slowly, Roxas’ eyes flutter heavily back open, staring up into his for the long moment in which he held the kid’s gaze, before turning towards Lucrecia. She continued to clutch Vincent, like she was afraid to let him go. She still wasn’t smiling, but Axel supposed it was all too huge for her to really grasp yet. All she could do was hold onto him, and pray that he didn’t suddenly disappear again, like all of this was a cruelly sweet dream that must at some point end. It was probably going to be a while before she woke up without the grief that had doubtless haunted her all this time. Axel could see an echo of in her eyes as she looked at them, trying to find the words to say.

Roxas took care of that for her. “You remember your promise – right?” Delighted though he might have been at what he’d managed to do here, the reason for it all remained foremost in the blond’s mind. He wasn’t going to let sentimentality change what Lucrecia had done.

She met his eyes, and nodded. “I do.”

Roxas released a long, tired breath. “…Then, we’re done here. Me and Axel – we don’t need to stay and escort you out, do we?”

Lucrecia shook her head. “No. I swear, I’ll go. Vincent and I…” Her arms tightened around the man. “We’ll go.”

Roxas inclined his head, hanging tightly onto Axel as he stood. He gestured for his bag, Axel quickly dipping and scooping it up, shrugging it onto one shoulder. Roxas clung to his upper arm for balance, still unsteady but at least better able to stand. He and Lucrecia looked at each other. “…Goodbye, then, I guess,” Roxas uncertainly said. “We’ve still got the evidence against you, so…”

“ShinRa wouldn’t have any use for me now, anyway,” Lucrecia quietly responded. “Vincent being awake means needing to go into hiding for a while, regardless of what I promised you. You won’t be seeing me again. I swear it.”

Grimacing a little, Roxas nevertheless nodded again. “Okay, then.” Turning to Axel, he sighed, “Let’s go.”

Supporting him as much as he could, Axel, with an arm around his shoulders and a hand cradling one elbow, guided Roxas’ dragging steps to the door. They were briefly paused by Lucrecia belatedly, softly calling, “Roxas – thank you.”

They stopped, Axel’s hand on the door handle, Roxas looking over his shoulder, silent for a moment, but then, with a crooked smile, replying, “…Sure.”

Axel opened the door, but before they had taken three steps Lucrecia’s voice made them hesitate one last time. “Roxas – Axel isn’t what he seems.” The words tumbled out of her, a warning she was anxious to impart while she still could. Axel’s blood chilled at the outburst, his eyes sharp as he whipped his head towards her. Roxas just looked puzzled. “In the guard station, before you arrived,” she urgently explained, “he was like a different man. There is a _darkness_ to him, Roxas. Be careful of him, please.”

Axel’s expression was carefully schooled when Roxas frowned up at him, revealing nothing of his sudden, _intense_ desire to lunge across the room and gag the woman with a rope of her own long hair – or perhaps her dear, darling Vincent’s – but the kid simply looked back at her and replied, “You don’t even know Axel. When you were sending guys after me, trying to hurt me – it was Axel who stopped them.” He seemed annoyed. “So excuse me if I don’t take your _opinion_ to heart, Lucrecia.”

She deflated, recognising that the attempt had fallen on deaf ears. Understanding that this was not a conversation Roxas planned to have with her, she merely lowered her eyes and nodded. She had no right anymore to try and advise him. Of the two of them, of course Roxas was going to trust Axel over her.

It was just, Axel wasn’t expecting that fact to stab at him so badly.

When Roxas jerked his head, indicating they should keep moving, they continued on. Axel helped Roxas out into the hallway and turned to pull the door shut. Remembering at the last minute that he still held her phone, he dug it out of his pocket and tossed it over onto the bed, his voice natural-sounding as he said, “Here.”

His expression was anything but natural, however. The last thing Lucrecia Crescent saw of him was the burning vehemence in his eyes; the last Axel saw of her was the pure fright on her face.

Then the door was pulled shut, and he returned to holding Roxas, gently but firmly, giving the kid all the support he needed to make his own way back through the hospital. They encountered a nurse in the ER on the way back out, but simply gave her a pained smile and kept moving to the exit. She thought nothing of it, having no idea that Roxas, who looked conveniently ill right now, had not in fact been a temporary patient.

They got back out into the night, Roxas’ steps gradually gaining strength, until, by the time they reached their cars, he was more or less walking on his own. Even so, Axel didn’t remove his arm until they were right alongside Roxas’ car, where the kid could lean against it. Eyeing him sceptically, Axel remarked, “You can’t drive like this. Look, we’ve got the day off tomorrow – or, today,” he amended, glancing up at the faintly lightening sky, dawn almost visible over the horizon. “I’ll drive your car. We’ll come back for mine – shit, whenever. I don’t even care.”

Roxas gave a wan smile. “Thanks. That’s probably… best.” Axel frowned at the breathless quality that continued to rob the energy right out of the kid’s words. He unzipped Roxas’ bag and fished out his keys, then helped him around to the other side of the car and opened the door. Roxas eased carefully in, releasing a long breath as he leaned back against the head-rest. Jogging back around to the driver’s seat, Axel swung himself inside, stashed the backpack in the back seat, and started the car up.

The trip back to Roxas’ house was… quiet, for the most part. Roxas mainly gazed out the window, the lights of the city reflected against his glassy eyes, or dozed fitfully every now and then. Once or twice he mumbled, “I can’t believe it’s gone.” The loss of the cornerstone seemed difficult for him to come to terms with, now that the lustre of having saved Vincent was fading into the background of his exhausted mind. He’d been relying on it for a while, after all – it had got him out of some bad situations, long before Axel had come along, and now… back to basics. Luck and bandages. No more magic rock to make the beatings go away. On the other hand, no more Lucrecia to arrange the beatings – but that didn’t mean that ShinRa was just going to stop.

Axel, however, had a plan for that. That Roxas couldn’t know about it was unfortunate, because it would have wiped the disquiet right from his face. He wanted so much to reassure the kid, to let him know that nobody was going to be coming after him anymore… but he guessed he’d just have to do it silently, and let Roxas come to that conclusion over time himself, when the attacks never resumed. Maybe he’d just attribute it to Lucrecia’s disappearance, marking her in his mind as a greater puppet master than he’d originally assumed.

Although, that was only if he lived long enough to really get a chance to think it over. It wasn’t like there wasn’t still a contract on his life. But… Axel was trying his hardest to not think about that right now. There were more pressing issues to attend to.

They arrived at Roxas’ house with the sun casting its first, long fingers over the edges of Archades. Roxas was awake, and got out of the car on his own before Axel could get around to him, seeming to need to reassert himself. Taking the keys from Axel’s hand, he led the way to the bungalow’s front door and unlocked, going to the alarm system to press in the code so they wouldn’t have the police camping on his doorstep any time soon. Axel shut the door, engaged the deadbolt, and followed Roxas up the stairs to the bedroom.

The kid immediately started stripping off, kicking off his shoes, tugging his hoodie up over his head, his shirt going with it, unbuckling his belt and shedding his jeans. Axel stood at the top of the stairs and simply watched, until Roxas, noticing, turned to him in his underwear and tiredly asked, “Aren’t you going to get ready for bed?” When Axel hesitated, he added, “No sex tonight. Just – just sleep. We can talk about… everything… later on.”

His expression clearing, Axel stepped further into the room. As Roxas threw back the blankets and crawled into bed, Axel undressed, his eyes on the blond. Once he, too, was down to his underwear, he went to the window, gave the yard a perfunctory check, then tugged the curtains so that no natural light could touch Roxas as he slept. He climbed into the bed next to the kid and lay awkwardly on his back, unsure how to proceed when sex wasn’t involved. It wasn’t like he had expected sex after everything that had happened – and Roxas was so goddamn tired – but what was he supposed to do? Just – fall asleep? Was he allowed to kiss him, or was it strip-club rules: no touching allowed? 

Roxas solved the dilemma for him. Already on his side, with his back to Axel, the kid reached back and found one of Axel’s hands, and tugged it over his ribs to hold onto. So, he wanted to touch, then. Axel could totally do that. Taking direction from this, he scooted close to Roxas, turned onto his side and spooned up behind him, his chest pressing into the blond’s bare back. He wrapped his arm warmly around the kid, holding him close and, when he felt a touch down at his ankles, obligingly let one of Roxas’ feet slip between them. Rather than a ‘no touching’ scenario, Roxas seemed starved for contact; he moulded himself into Axel’s embrace, holding his arm to his chest. Slowly, he intertwined their fingers together.

Then, finally satisfied, Roxas went to sleep.

Soon, it was just Axel lying awake. They were so close, he could feel his own heartbeat pulse against Roxas’ back. He could in turn feel the kid’s heart beating against his arm, where it crossed over his chest. He could feel every breath Roxas took in the slow swell and ebb of his body. He could smell the kid’s hair, not just on the pillow but inches away from his face. He could smell his skin. Without thinking, he planted a kiss on his shoulder, and now he could taste it. It occurred to him that he hadn’t been this close to another human being in… well, just about ever.

The warmth in his chest that hovered whenever Roxas came to mind now became almost a burn, bursting outward like oozing lava, flowing down through his belly, along his arms and legs, up to his face. It was thick, and hot, and consuming, and, bafflingly, not sexual in nature. It was just this – swell of feeling. Of _emotion._ His hold on Roxas imperceptibly tightened, so that he was clutching the kid closer still, Roxas murmuring slightly in his sleep but not waking, drained as he was.

Axel swallowed, eyes wide in the dimly lit room. Outside, the world was waking up and beginning to move about. In here, stillness reigned, except for the continued pounding of Axel’s heart. He thought about everything he had learned during the night, everything that Roxas had been through and done, the strength the kid had in all that he did, and the pulsing in his chest grew sharper. He thought of the lengths Lucrecia had gone to to try and get Vincent back, and again his grip on Roxas intensified.

Digging his forehead into the kid’s shoulder, he tried to control his suddenly erratic breathing. His body was in chaos – his heart and mind, even more so.

This was bad. Oh, this was very, very bad. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew this had been coming, with the sort of inevitability of a train with no brakes. But he hadn’t – hadn’t expected it to be like… _this._ This – he had never felt this. This was something only Roxas had done to him, something perhaps only Roxas _could_ do to him.

He had thought it before – that he was fucked. But he hadn’t really realised, even then, just how far down into this he was going to plummet. How high it would take him, how frightening it could be.

He hadn’t recognised the _purity_ of the words – that he… was… _fucked._

Because Axel, Axel Drake, Axel of the Organisation, every Axel he had or ever could be…

Axel… _loved_ … Roxas. Jesus shitting Christ.

He was actually in love with his target.

And he had… absolutely no idea what to do about it.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Axel slept shallowly throughout the day, too agitated to really settle. Each time he came anywhere near the upper skin of consciousness, it would hit him all over again: the exaltation, the near-panic, the terrified glee of being near the one he… _loved…_ but knowing that the clock was ticking away. He could _feel_ the seconds passing.

He would then open his eyes, see Roxas in the muted light, and wonder how much longer he had before that golden, supple flesh was rotting in a grave in the ground. Each time it occurred to him, he had to take a breath – a deep, deep breath – to stave off the pounding in his chest. He really… wasn’t used to this sort of strain. He had never – ever – questioned a mission like this before. Then again, neither had he ever been so emotionally invested in a target, so it was a job full of firsts.

All he really knew was that they’d sent the wrong guy.

He was no longer an objective party in all this; he was neck-deep in it, his heart swollen with everything he felt for the blond. He’d been so confident of its ephemerality at first, but that had so quickly crumbled… and now Axel could no longer see an end in sight for what he felt for Roxas. The fact that he had admitted at _all_ to himself just how _deep_ his feelings were was infinitely bad and disturbing. This changed everything – while at the same time, frustratingly, everything remained exactly the same. The contract still existed, Roxas still thought nothing of his presence in his life, a life which chugged dutifully on like he was a fixture in the year 2033, instead of merely a violent visitor.

He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his knuckles punishingly into them. Everything was so fucked _up…_

At some point, he fell into deeper slumber, plain old fatigue carrying him off into unsettled dreams. When he next opened his eyes… the room had gone dim, the sunlight gone, and Roxas was awake, watching him. The kid was propped up on his side on one elbow, still dark under the eyes but – looking better than he had.

For a long moment, Axel simply stared at him, getting used to the throb in his chest.

Softly, Roxas said, “Good morning.” Glancing over at the window, he added, “Well – our version of morning, anyway.”

Before Axel could think or say anything in response, the blond planted a hand on the other side of him, and leaned over him with a kiss. Axel, lying on his back, legs still somewhat splayed, was transported into sleepy paradise. Every part of his being… just sang.

The kiss deepened, tongues delving, Roxas still seeming to need that physical contact he had wanted when falling asleep. Axel, perfectly happy to accommodate, ran a hand slowly up the kid’s bare arm, nails dragging lightly on the way back down, making Roxas shiver. The blond sighed a little, lapped at Axel’s lips. Axel continued to stroke him, the motions becoming circular, reaching around to his back now, fingertips trailing along taut skin. If Roxas could’ve started purring, Axel was pretty sure he would have.

Sex followed, Roxas riding him slowly, hands planted on Axel’s stomach for balance as he whimpered and sighed. Axel gripped his hips tightly, neck arched as he lost himself in the sweet pleasure of it all, his heart feeling three sizes too big for his ribs.

When the dreamy haze parted, Axel found Roxas nestled in his arms, the kid cuddled close to his chest. His arms tightened, expression briefly twisting, eyes passing over the room with something akin to desperation. _What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I…?_

“It still… doesn’t really feel real.”

Roxas’ quiet words reached him in the midst of mounting panic, Axel swallowing, consciously calming himself, and asking as evenly as possible, “Which part?” God only knew he could relate.

“…Lucrecia. That guy – Vincent.” Roxas let loose a low sigh. “The cornerstone.” He angled his head back a little, looking up into Axel’s face, though the redhead himself was gazing at the ceiling, unable, at this point, to meet the kid’s eyes. “I can’t believe it was only last night. I can’t believe it all happened.” Shifting in Axel’s arms, so that they were both on their backs now, staring at the same patch of roof, he said, “I _know_ it happened – but it still doesn’t feel real.”

Axel sighed, reached a hand up to rub his face. “I think I know how you feel.” Remembering the toll it took on Roxas, he stroked the kid’s bare shoulder with a thumb, still not looking at him as he asked, “How are you doing? You scared the crap out of me, you know. The whole cornerstone thing – it was different this time.”

Roxas inclined his head in the faintest of nods. “You’re telling me.” His voice was almost inaudible. “I could feel it – _dragging_ at me. I could almost feel on my own spine where Vincent was damaged.”

“Jesus, Roxas.” The very idea made Axel’s stomach twist.

“No, no – it’s fascinating.” Roxas looked over at him. “The theory is that cornerstone reacts to the people around it. This is like – _proof_ of that. It reacted to Vincent’s injuries, _and_ it was drawing energy from me. That shows that it has sympathetic vibrations with organic damage and requires an external, affinitive source to be charged. That is _exactly_ what we’re trying to prove.” The energy that danced briefly in his voice then dulled. “Too bad nobody can ever know about it, though. I could almost single-handedly prove the Cornerstone Theory, but I can’t even present my findings.”

Axel gave a wheezing, almost choked noise. “Yeah, I know. But hey, you’ll get there, right?”

“Mm.” Roxas sounded dissatisfied with the idea of having to wait when he was sitting on such a scientific bombshell, but goddamn, if ever Axel needed the kid to just play it safe, it was now.

“Don’t… don’t tell anyone about it, Roxas.” It was hard to keep the plea out of his tone.

Roxas sighed. “Yeah. I know. I won’t.”

Axel squeezed him, turning onto his side and burying his nose into the kid’s hair. Bemused, Roxas asked him, “You okay there?”

Axel inhaled deeply, taking in the faintly lingering scent of his shampoo. “…Yeah.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Axel.” The kid patted his arm reassuringly. “I haven’t stopped being scared of what Ansem might do if he found out. Not to mention I’d then have to explain the whole Lucrecia thing, which I’m pretty sure we just spent the early hours of the morning trying to _prevent…_ So, it’s fine.”

 _It’s fine…_ Oh, kid. If he only knew how far from fine either of them was or ever could be.

After a few silent minutes, Roxas asked, “Do you think this means that those guys are going to stop coming after me now?”

Axel’s hands twitched around him. “…Yeah. Probably.”

“What if ShinRa just replaces Lucrecia?” Roxas wondered, unconvinced. “Or stops using her as a proxy, and starts making the orders directly?”

“No,” Axel said, injecting every bit of authority he could muster into it. “I bet that they get spooked when they find Lucrecia gone. They’ll back off. If not, I’ll get my contact to get more dirt on them – they’ll wish they _had_ backed off.”

Brightening slightly, Roxas murmured, “Oh, hey, yeah – your contact. I almost forgot about that.” He twisted his head to look at Axel. “Hey, introduce me to them sometime – I want to thank them for what they did.”

Axel’s chest tightened. He shook his head, hissing regretfully through his teeth. “Oh, uh, sorry. No can do. My friend sort of operates alone, and what he did wasn’t _strictly_ legal, so he wants to remain anonymous in it all, even to you.”

“Oh.” The kid sounded disappointed, but accepted it without question. “Well, I understand, I guess. And it’s good to know that you still have him in the wings if things _do_ keep happening, because otherwise it could mean trouble.” He grimaced. “I don’t think I can get more cornerstone on my own, it’s too closely watched. When I found that piece in my backpack, I just figured it was dumb luck, you know? I was kind of scared to try and return it, in case they thought I’d taken it deliberately. And then I found out about its abilities, and I just… figured it had all worked out for the best.” He sighed, Axel feeling that familiar little ache in his chest at the sound of such… despondency in the kid. “But it was all just Lucrecia, huh? From start to finish.”

Axel gave a sympathetic murmur, while Roxas shook his head. With a touch of anger, he went on, “And she couldn’t even rein it in, right at the end there. What the hell was that with trying to warn me away from _you?_ What, just because _she’s_ happy again, no one else is allowed to be?”

Axel swallowed. “Yeah, well – she didn’t seem all that stable to me, maybe the months of pressure cracked her up a little.” Before Roxas could think too hard about it – and feeling rather keen to focus in on this next point – he asked, “But, what’s this about you being… happy? You mean – with me?”

Roxas arched an eyebrow, again turning to look up at him. “Well – yeah. I…” He fell silent for a moment, returning his gaze to the ceiling, Axel nearly bursting beside him, but keeping it contained, locked up tight. His heart, though, oh, his poor heart: it was going a mile a minute. He was so glad Roxas wasn’t still up against his chest, or the kid would’ve known in an instant. At length, Roxas started talking again. “I like – being with you. And I’m really grateful for everything you’ve been doing for me. Not,” he hastily added, “that that’s why I like you or anything – I mean, I’d still like you even if you hadn’t become involved in this at _all,_ it’s just that I appreciate what… what you _have_ done for me…”

Axel smirked, glowing inside. “What a lie. The only reason you started talking to me civilly was because I saved your ass in the parking lot. If I hadn’t become involved, you’d have kept hating me.”

Roxas retorted, “And whose fault was that in the first place?”

“Mine.” Axel nuzzled the side of the kid’s face, Roxas rolling his eyes and turning towards him.

“I’m glad you acknowledge that. But anyway… yeah. You make me happy.” The tiniest hint of shyness that entered his voice and expression were just… entrancing. Axel felt his breath get briefly snatched away, his heart throbbing more tightly than ever.

He groaned, _“Jesus,_ kid,” and rolled himself atop Roxas, kissing hard. Caught by surprise, but more than able to keep up, Roxas kissed back – and soon they were panting again, Axel gritting his teeth as he thrust into Roxas, the blond moaning beneath him. The climax was… intense. Axel’s voice came from somewhere deep inside, low and guttural, the shudders wracking his body from top to toe. Roxas seemed almost dazed in the aftermath, boneless and satisfied after two sessions so close together.

Axel, on the other hand, felt... dirty.

“I’m, uh – going to have a shower,” he announced, the kid nodding dreamily beside him, still catching his breath. Axel rolled out of bed, kicking free of the blankets, and grabbed his clothes from the ground. Carrying them under one arm, he headed downstairs, allowing the grimness of his being to fill his face only once he was sure Roxas could no longer see him. Shoulders hunched, he made his way to the bathroom, got the shower going as hot as he could stand, and stood under the flow for minutes untold, staring dully at the rapidly fogging glass.

Again, the thought drifted up in his mind: _What am I doing?_ It held traces of despair – he knew he couldn’t stop this relationship with Roxas until the moment he stopped it with a bullet. He was just too _engrossed_ in the kid. Distance and heartbreak were the two things he required more than anything, but there was just no way in hell he could do it. He felt so _strongly_ for Roxas, while a part of his mind was always coldly aware that in time he would have to do it. He had no _choice_ in the matter; a job was a job. That he had feelings for the target meant nothing. But it killed him to be doing this to Roxas – abusing his trust, loving him while planning to kill him, taking advantage of his body while planning to eventually, someday, just flat out murder it.

_What… am… I… doing?_

Shit. This was the worst contract ever.

Dragging his hands through his wet hair, plastered flat along his neck and down between his shoulder-blades, Axel wrestled his train of thought to the one thing he _could_ affect: the safety of the next several weeks of Roxas’ life. Dealing with the silver-haired trio was imperative, before they realised that Lucrecia had vanished and they began acting independently. Neither they nor ShinRa could be given time to think about what to do next – Axel had to be the one to act first.

He shut off the shower and stepped out, towelling himself dry in Roxas’ small, steamy bathroom. There were too many things in this job he couldn’t directly affect or change – but this wasn’t one of them. The first priority for Organisation agents, beyond their contract, was always to have as minimal an impact on the timeline they were entering into as possible… and, well, since the timeline had already been muddied beyond all help by the outward ripples Axel’s mere presence had set into motion, he might as well go for broke and just terrorise those fuckers right the hell out of Roxas’ life.

He tugged on his clothes and went upstairs in search of Roxas. He found the kid exactly where he’d left him, lying on his stomach with his head on the pillow, fighting to keep his eyes open. Axel couldn’t stop the indulgent smile from softening his face, going over to the edge of the bed and sitting down, placing a hand on Roxas’ bare back and moving it soothingly back and forth. The kid gave a contented hum, sighing deeply, looking like he’d happily return to sleep just like this.

Bending low, near his ear, Axel softly said, “Hey – I need to go back to my apartment for a while, get a change of clothes and check on my car at the hospital. Can I borrow your wheels?”

“My ‘wheels’,” Roxas faintly snorted. A lazy smirk in place, he opened his eyes and swivelled them to Axel. “Sure, you can borrow my _hatchback_ , but make sure it comes back with a speed stripe on it.”

Axel had to kiss him. Didn’t have a choice in the matter. With the kid lying there looking so perfectly satisfied and dreamy and with that flicker of amusement… resisting the urge just never crossed his mind. The mischief melted from Roxas’ face, Axel’s lips hot and needy. When the man eventually pulled back, it was with the utmost reluctance. Roxas, evidently feeling the same way, gave a small noise of protest at the loss. Scraping his nails through the kid’s blond spikes, Axel pressed their foreheads together, breaths mingling, and raggedly vowed, “I’ll be back.”

Dazedly, Roxas replied, “I’ll be here.”

It took every ounce of Axel’s self-discipline to not strip every item of clothing back off his body and dive into bed with the blond. But – no. Short-term lust did not win out over Roxas’ long-term safety. It just… ached between the legs, was all.

With a few fortifying breaths, Axel managed to turn his back to the kid and leave the room. Roxas’ keys were downstairs, the redhead snatching them up from the table near the front door and exiting out into the night, making sure he locked up as he left. As his feet crunched along the short path to the little, yellow car in the driveway, he glanced around, wondering if he was even at this moment being spied on. He slowed to a stop beside Roxas’ car, holding the keys tightly so they wouldn’t make a noise, his senses expanding into the darkness. He hadn’t turned on the porch lights, so the gloom was deep and only getting deeper. Not exactly ideal for taking pictures. Still, he would need to make sure that no one was lurking before he attempted to invade their temporary base. Just – not yet. Not while he still wore the guise of a civilian.

With a steady exhalation, he continued on.

Roxas’ car was a decent little vehicle. Not exactly Axel’s style, but it held traces of Roxas all over it. Scraps of paper and discarded receipts, the kid’s scent, a pair of shoes lying inexplicably in the back seat… it made Axel tingly all over. Which, incidentally, was _not_ the feeling he was going for right now. A change of transport was required.

His first stop was Saint Bastion’s. His rental was still there, along with several other cars this time, visiting hours still operational. There was a ticket on the windshield. He scrunched it up, tossed it into the back as he climbed in. Roxas’ car would be fine on its own for a while.

Axel’s next destination was his apartment, smelling of dust and mildew. He flicked on a couple of lights and got to work. In the bedroom, he changed his clothes to black gloves, black pants, black t-shirt, black combat boots. He knelt, pulling out, almost reverently, a bag from under the bed and, from it, the long, black, hooded overcoat of the Organisation. He held it for a moment, a thumb smoothing over the material. It was snug, warm, breathable. Everything you’d need for melting into the shadows. It was the symbol of everything he was here for. It had served him… very well over the years.

It felt… right to be holding it again. It felt right to be like this – alone, gearing up for a fight. This was what he’d always lived for, this _moment,_ this point in time when he could don his coat and _embody_ the Organisation. When he wore this, he was dark, dangerous, far-reaching; damn near omniscient, omnipotent – a master of _everything._ Even time bent to his will, when he wore this coat.

His fingers tightened around it, his gaze travelling across the black fabric. Would he be wearing this, he wondered, when Roxas’ time came…? He felt a stinging throb in his chest, eyes briefly closing.

…Now was not the time.

In the next moment he was up, the coat’s hem swinging as he twisted it around, slipped it over his arms, zipped it up to his chest. Moving swiftly, he armed himself, a knife slipped into the sheath at his back, a gun in the holster under his arm, and, the pièce de résistance, a propane-fuelled blowtorch. This was his pride and joy, his absolute baby. He got so few chances to use it, but _oh,_ when he did – the _rush._ The fuel tank resided in an unassuming backpack, the torch extension strapped to the side with Velcro. If he got to whip this out tonight, he would go back to Roxas a happy and extremely horny man.

He spent a minute in quiet reflection, standing in the middle of the apartment, going through a mental checklist to ensure that he was ready. At length, he gave a short nod. All that was left now was to find where he was going.

Crouching in front of the coffee table, leaning back against the couch, he quickly opened his laptop and typed in the name of the business that Lucrecia had given him. _Highwind Storage Services._ As the woman had said, it was in the city, not so far from his current location. They had chosen a place closer to Lowtown, with rules more on the lax side, hence their ability to straight-up squat in one of the cells. That should also, happily, make it easier for him to move around undetected.

Shutting the computer down, he again stood, rolling his shoulders slowly, glancing around one final time. Then, he was back in motion. Long strides took him across the apartment, a hand flicking the lights off as he passed each switch, the door banging in his wake, locks snapping into place with a quick twist in each keyhole. He ascended the stairs, went around his car, briefly checking his surroundings but doubting, this time, that he was being watched. Lucrecia had not been around to give the order, after all, and the likelihood of her having got in contact with them after Axel and Roxas had left her was extremely low. She knew too much, and now that she was no longer a willing participant in the destruction of Roxas, ShinRa sure as hell wouldn’t just let a loose end like that float around unchecked. Lucrecia was a smart woman, despite her recent behaviour – she wouldn’t do a thing that might risk her precious Vincent. That was why Axel had to act _now –_ before the silver-haired trio realised something was amiss.

Behind the wheel once again, Axel got moving. The sense of purpose he felt was glorious. It was so _clean_ in his head. For so many weeks now, his thoughts and feelings had been in shambles, complication on top of complexity, question on top of an echoing lack of answers. This, though?

This was plain old fun.

His foot grew heavier on the accelerator, the thrill of the hunt starting to bubble up inside, cauterising away all the uncertainties Roxas had given birth to within him. He was a hunter, a _reaper,_ and those three guys had better hope he wasn’t feeling in the mood to take some souls when he rocked up. They had just better not _tempt_ him.

Axel had proven weak to temptation lately, after all.

He changed gears, drove faster, leather gloves creaking around the steering wheel.

Feeling a little like he was chasing his tail, but knowing that he needed to be sure, he returned to Roxas’ house, parking a couple of blocks away, and made a pass of the area on foot. He moved quickly, quietly, keeping to every pool of shadow, eyes peeled for signs of Roxas’, and now his, favourite stalkers. He noticed, as he passed, that Roxas had turned the porch lights on. It was so hard to not sigh, that increasingly familiar warmth threatening to fill his chest again at the realisation that the kid had put them on for _him._ Over the road, Roxas was waiting, patient and trusting, for Axel to return. He’d probably tossed on some clothes, probably took a shower first and had damp hair. Was he watching TV? Or fixing something to eat? Or…

With a mental slap, he redirected his thoughts. He was _crouched in the bushes,_ for Christ’s sake, along a suburban street, checking for stalkers. Now was not the time to _become_ that stalker, if for no other reason than the longer he remained here, the more likely it got that someone would spot him.

He moved on, continuing his careful patrol of the area.

After a tense and alert period of searching, he eventually concluded that the silver-haired guys weren’t around. As suspected, they apparently waited for direction from Lucrecia before embarking upon anything. The night that they’d strangled Roxas flashed through Axel’s head, and for a heartbeat he was eaten up with fresh anger for the woman. How bitter it was that she should, after all she’d done to Roxas, be allowed to simply walk free with her heart’s desire. He wished he’d been rougher with her when he’d had her cornered in the guard station. Oh, if only he’d known at the time.

But at least he could deal with the bastards that had enacted the order.

He returned to his car with fresh purpose, setting off again through the night, headlights blazing. Roxas’ neighbourhood was left behind, and, with it, everything that made Axel feel weak. As he drove, gaze fixed ahead, preparing himself for a fight, it was like he was being poured into a new vessel. Or an old vessel, maybe. Somewhere between Roxas’ bungalow and Lowtown, a shift took place, Axel Drake passing the baton to Axel of the Organisation, and when the car finally stopped again, he was a different person to the man who had climbed into Roxas’ hatchback. His eyes glittered, his veins aflame with excitement, teeth briefly baring in the darkness that fell when the headlights cut off.

He tugged his hood up, obscuring his distinctive hair, and slid from the car with mercurial grace, the night accepting him into a chilly, protective embrace that he breathed deeply of, tasting exhaust fumes stained into the walls from all the heavy vehicles that passed through the area. He shrugged the backpack with the propane over his shoulders, closing the door of his rental quietly, leaving it unlocked, wanting to be able to access it hurriedly if the necessity arose. He then walked the three remaining blocks to the storage centre, each step a soft _thud_ in the night, scraping occasionally over loose stones, anticipation rising in his chest, the feeling remarkably similar to sex with Roxas but containing something sharper, more… razor-like.

When he reached the vicinity of Highwind Storage, he found a back alley and followed along until he found a section of crumbling brick wall that was climbable. Using a couple of trash cans for a boost, he hauled himself up, hunkering down once he was atop it and using the perch to survey the area. Highwind Storage was two lots over, all chain link fences and barbed wire, a collection of tin sheds crammed inside, some little, some larger. It was surrounded on three sides by warehouses, the fourth side facing a quiet side street. A cool wind blew, the only thing moving in the stillness, the silence. Business hours were long over, whoever operated the place had gone home for the night; now the only ones left out here were Axel… and his triplicate quarry.

Doubled over, he made his way swiftly along the wall until he reached the warehouse lot to the right of Highwind Storage. He dropped quietly to the ground, loped over to the fence and crouched. With one gloved hand on the links, he paused and checked his surroundings. No hint of discovery. He swung the backpack around, pulling from one pocket a set of miniature bolt-cutters, perfect for this sort of task. With a series of sharp squeezes, Axel clipped a line down to the ground, the fence shuddering faintly with each _snick._ Glancing about, he parted the new opening and pushed the backpack through, following close behind, the sharp points of the freshly cut links dragging at his coat.

On the other side, he placed his hands against the fence to still its agitated motion, the clatter of the links against one another falling silent again after a few moments. He again checked his surroundings, listening keenly, detecting nothing out of the ordinary. Swinging the bag back over his shoulders, bolt-cutters tucked away again, Axel set off through the darkened storage lot. He found himself at the east end, the numbers on the sheds in the sixties. He needed to locate unit number twenty-eight – that was the information Lucrecia had given. That was over by the larger sheds. Moving steadily, keeping his senses alert, he crossed the storage lot with minimal noise, excitement once again on the rise. He could feel his heartbeat acutely, breaths soft but quick. His tongue came out to moisten his lips, a gleam of saliva in the moonlight.

As he approached the western edge of the lot, the numbers heading downward all the while, he slowed, becoming more cautious in his approach. There wasn’t much in the way of defences that the trio could set up in a public place like this – but even so, it wouldn’t pay to become careless at this point and alert them to his presence before he was ready.

It was at this point that a noise caught his attention. Axel froze in place, stilling his breaths and listening – ready to swing around and fight if there was someone coming up from behind. The noise had begun abruptly, and continued, puzzling him for a long minute until it gradually filtered through that what he was hearing was… television. Someone had switched on a TV. The sound he’d heard was a laugh track starting up out of nowhere, someone tuning in to some sitcom or another all of a sudden.

Someone was bored.

The breath that left him was almost a laugh. If he hadn’t already known the unit number, someone would have just made his job a _lot_ easier. The sound had dimmed since that first eruption, the volume evidently turned lower to avoid being overheard, but it was still faintly audible, the noise bouncing along between the sheds in the hush. Whoever was operating it was being careful, but regardless held the complacency of believing themselves out of anyone’s earshot. After all, who would think to be wandering around at this hour?

Axel felt a thrill of glee, and resumed his approach.

Silently, he advanced on unit number twenty-eight, unassumingly similar to all the other sheds around it. Anyone not already aware that it contained a trio of squatters wouldn’t have thought anything of it, under normal circumstances. Crouching at the heavy sliding door, Axel inspected the lock, saw that it was a deadlock over the handle, looking at a glance like it was locked from the outside when in fact the lock wasn’t holding anything actually _shut._ Naturally; it wasn’t like the guys could just sit around, day and night, until someone came to let them out. Attack dogs though they might be, Axel doubted they’d have appreciated being caged between times.

He heard, through the metal, someone say, _“When is that bitch going to_ call? _Ten more minutes of this, and I’m heading to the mini-mart.”_

Axel nearly chuckled. In ten minutes, nobody was going to be mini-mart capable. He placed a hand upon the roller-door, no solid in plan in place other than causing mayhem. In Roxas’ name.

He stood, pulling the door upward with him, rattling loudly, keeping one hand on it while the other pulled the gun from its holster and swung towards the nearest silver-haired body. Axel’s very favourite, Yazoo, with the long, shiny hair, took a bullet to the thigh and dropped with a familiar howl. He laughed, a snarling sound, and stepped inside the storage unit, which had been dressed up to be a living space for three men: three sleeping mats against the right-hand wall, a table on the left with a small gas stove and an array of plastic bottles and cutlery, with a beaten-up couch in the middle, a battery-powered television set sitting on a crate, casting dim light in the gloom, grainy images moving on the screen. The second guy was on the sofa, the hulking one, twisted around with a look of comical disbelief that Axel erased in an instant, levelling the gun at him and squeezing off a round that took the guy in the shoulder. Loz fell out of sight, partially from the force of the bullet, partially from a belated desire to get behind cover.

As Axel began casting about for the third guy, said third guy got to him first. Axel’s element of surprise had been spent on the first two; the third one, Kadaj, had his own element of surprise in that he was the only unknown entity among the trio. Axel didn’t know how he moved, as he did with the other two, and as a result was caught from the side, the guy slamming hard into his ribs, arms wrapped around and driving him sideways across the unit until they hit the table. Axel’s hip slammed into the edge, turning numb after a flash of pain, a groan bursting from his lips, as Kadaj wound up and delivered a sharp punch to his face. _Shit._ Roxas was going to notice that one. Unacceptable.

Kadaj reached over him and grabbed his gun hand, started trying to pry his fingers from around it, Axel growling and throwing his elbow into the guy’s sternum, following it quickly with a head-butt that sent him reeling. There was no advantage to press, however, as the second he’d shrugged Kadaj off, Yazoo came in, thigh bleeding, and started frantically swinging a knife in a blatant attempt to disembowel him, preventing him from bringing the gun up.

Clutching his face, Kadaj yelled, _“Loz!_ Get the door!”

“On it!” The big guy lumbered across the unit and dragged the metal door back down, shutting them off from the outside world – shutting Axel in.

Turning to him, holding a wrist against the blood starting to trickle from his nose, Kadaj snarled, “You’re not leaving here alive, security guard.”

In response, Axel laughed, a dark, dry patter like the flurry of dead leaves in an unforgiving winter. _“Security guard?_ Is that what you think I am?”

He caught Yazoo’s hand, twisted it sharply before he could yank away, held the gun against his fingers and pulled the trigger. This time, Yazoo positively screamed. Axel kicked him away, the tall man curling in on himself, cradling the stumps to his stomach, moaning endlessly. The remaining two brothers stood  frozen in place, eyes like saucers as they registered what he had done.

“What? Too brutal even for you?” Axel softly taunted. “More so than, say, sneaking into a guy’s house to try and throttle him with a length of rope?”

He took a moment to size up the third guy, Kadaj. He was like the baby bear of the trio – not as big as Loz, not as thin as Yazoo, even his hair was mid-length. There was a flicker of cunning in his eyes as they darted between Yazoo, bleeding on the floor next to the couch, and Axel’s almost placid expression. “…What is this?” he rasped.

Axel grinned slowly. “This is your cease and desist. This is the moment you three stop coming after Roxas, and scurry back to whatever rock you came out from under.”

Kadaj swallowed, studying him through narrowed eyes. “…You’ve been a thorn in our side from the moment you appeared. Where did you come from? You’re not normal.”

“I wasn’t really looking to open a line of dialogue,” Axel replied conversationally, popping the magazine briefly from his gun to check on how he was going for ammunition, snapping it back into place, holding the weapon loosely, almost carelessly. “This isn’t open for negotiation, fellas.” He levelled the gun at Kadaj’s head with both hands, a small smile in place. “I’m _telling_ you… that the time has come for you to retreat. Lucrecia is gone. I know you’re ShinRa, and have proof demonstrating it.”

Kadaj’s face twitched, first at the mention of the woman, then with widening eyes at the mention of ShinRa. “…How…?”

Axel put a little pressure on the trigger, stopping Kadaj short. The man bared his teeth and hissed slowly, mind racing as he weighed up his rather limited options. “Where have you been throughout all this, anyway?” Axel wondered. “I know your brothers pretty well. They’re sloppy dancers, but they provided some fun. But you – you scared of the field or something? What’s your role been in it all?”

Kadaj glared, evidently remaining unwilling despite his utter helplessness right now. He didn’t want to answer, so Axel swung around to where Loz was trying to surreptitiously inch along towards to Yazoo, who was stretched out, trying to pass him the knife he still clung to, and shot his other shoulder. The bulky man staggered back with a strangled yell. Axel turned back towards Kadaj, saying, “You know, I can do this all- _oof!”_

Kadaj had once again seized the few seconds of distraction to throw himself at Axel. This was exactly the sort of shit that Axel hadn’t anticipated, having not experienced the guy before. So he was one of those ‘til death’ fighters, huh? Fuckin’ great.

Kadaj rammed him again against the table, this time going straight for the gun. Axel expected him to try and wrestle it away, but rather trying to prise it from him, this time Kadaj changed tactics and stuck a finger over Axel’s on the trigger and started pulling it.

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

“Fuck _off!”_ Axel huffed, Kadaj practically climbing him, keeping him off balance, keeping the muzzle pointed upward, one bullet after another punching through the roof of the unit until eventually – _click! Click-click!_ Out of bullets. Kadaj grinned, savage triumph, and tried to punch Axel a second time, but the redhead was ready for this, instead stiff-arming his palm into the guy’s jaw, teeth slamming together with enough force to cut through tongue had it been in the way. With a grunt, Kadaj stumbled back, Axel grabbing the table, rearing up and following with a sharp kick to the guy’s stomach. Kadaj fell back against the couch, while Axel slid the empty gun back under his coat and instead drew his knife, advancing on the winded Kadaj and gripping a handful of his hair, wrenching his neck taut, placing the sharp blade against the tight, pale skin.

“Three to one, and you couldn’t even put up a half-decent fight,” Axel sneered. As Kadaj glowered, he pressed the knife in, coaxing a thin, red line into existence right over the guy’s throbbing pulse. Raising his voice, he announced, “I will _kill_ the next one of you to stand against me. You comprehend that one, fellas? I’ve got no qualms dealing in death. I’ve been playing with you kittens ’til now – but Roxas _is_ expecting me back in the next little while, so I’d rather not drag this out longer than necessary.” He turned to glare specifically at Loz, who, even though shot in both shoulders, had been moving like he was preparing to take Axel out at the knees. “You want to be responsible for me slitting your brother’s throat?”

Loz halted, then, with a dark look, sank back into a submissive position.

“Exactly. Good boy.” Turning his attention back to Kadaj, Axel took his time lovingly carving the thin line a little deeper, causing the man’s teeth to grit together. “So, what _have_ you been doing, Kadaj? You seem a little too clever to just be a behind-the-scenes type of guy.” The use of his name caused the man’s eyes to flash. There could be little doubt now that Axel had spoken truthfully about how much he knew about them all. This was cemented as the redhead went on, “I mean, I know what your _brothers_ were attempting – trying to force Roxas to charge that piece of cornerstone, right? By the way, it broke,” he added. “So hey, there’s another reason you don’t need to keep all this up.”

“How in the hell are you so well-informed?” Kadaj hoarsely demanded, as if he had any authority despite being bent backwards over a sofa with a knife slicing into the flesh of his neck. “Was it Lucrecia?”

“Her?” Axel snorted. “I don’t think so. She was way too focused on her darling coma-boy. Good work there, by the way – that _was_ you guys, right? Or at least, ShinRa guys? It’s a very ShinRa thing to do. That Vincent guy was nothing but a pawn in the end, even though he was one of you.”

Kadaj scowled, confirming Axel’s suspicions. He laughed a little. _“Cold._ But it’s not like I wouldn’t have done the same.” He pressed the knife in a little for emphasis, the blood running somewhat faster now, Kadaj gasping slightly.

“What – what do you _want?”_ the man asked, evidently feeling the chilled fingers of his own mortality creeping closer.

Axel tilted his head to one side, leaning close. “I want to know _your_ role in this. You haven’t laid a finger on Roxas since I turned up, and I want to know why. I want the full picture.”

Kadaj swallowed with some effort, lips pressing thin for a moment, as if he was going to resist right to the end. But even he apparently had that instinct to survive, because he took a careful breath and muttered, “I never touched the damned kid. Each time we went in for an attack, I’d be waiting nearby. I have my own piece of cornerstone, a purified one. In the presence of other charged stones, it glows.”

“So you were waiting on the sidelines with your piece to confirm if Roxas had charged his own?”

“Yes.”

Axel arched a brow. “That’s it?”

Kadaj struggled not to squirm under the blade’s threatening bite. _“Yes._ One of us had to do it, and I’m the one in charge, so it fell to me.”

Axel inclined his head. “Well, I guess that explains how you’d have figured out whether or not he’d done it. So two of you charge in, fuck him up, and the third waits outside to see if the emotion from it all kicks the cornerstone into overdrive.” He thought for a moment, seeking any further unanswered questions. “Yeah, that seems to cover it. One last question, though: what now? What should I do with you, I wonder?” His gaze intensified over Kadaj, the knife sliding slowly back and forth, sawing gently against the cut he’d made. The man closed his eyes, jaw tightening.

“Well, it’s just an idea, but you could _let us go,”_ Kadaj suggested tightly. Axel smirked a little. The guy had some fight left in him, after all. It was just on hold while he was under immediate threat.

“Yeah, but then what? You run off to Hojo at ShinRa, tell on me? I’m trying to figure out if it’s better that everyone connected to this vanishes without a trace, or if I should _let_ you run off to Hojo, to deliver the warning in person that Roxas is officially off-limits.”

He visibly pondered, Kadaj keeping a beady eye on him, waiting to see where his preference fell. However, it occurred to Axel that he had taken enough time already, and that the act of butchering the trio would take longer still, as well as being a messy endeavour. He felt Kadaj tremble slightly in his grasp as the decision to let them live evidently showed itself on his face.

“Okay, this is how it’s going to happen,” Axel proposed, all reason and graciousness. “I’m going to walk away from here, and none of you is going to follow me. You’re going to leave Roxas alone, you’re going to leave _me_ alone, and this whole thing, this – tormenting of him, trying to intimidate me, the whole illicit cornerstone _deal…_ it’s over. Your operation is shut down.” He dragged the knife down Kadaj’s throat, over his Adam’s apple, staring intently into the man’s eyes. “And if _anyone_ tries to make another attempt at _any_ of this shit, the media will be made aware of ShinRa’s activities. I have contingencies in place that will deliver all the information I have to every major media outlet in the nation if either Roxas or I are… compromised in any way. Do I make myself clear?” He poked the knife tip into the soft flesh under Kadaj’s chin. “I’ve demonstrated how much I know tonight, not to mention what I’m willing to _do_. You run along to Hojo and let him know: Roxas Black is under protection.”

“Under _whose_ protection?” Kadaj hissed between his teeth. Axel smiled, a slow, playful expression.

“…That’s between me and my employers. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over. Just remember what you’ve seen and heard tonight, and… pass it on.”

Kadaj looked ready to murder, but nodded, accepting their resounding defeat, and just like that, single-handedly, Axel had effectively neutered the wolves sniffing around Roxas. The smile hovering, he lowered the blade, stepping carefully back. Kadaj straightened, fingers rising to touch the blood that continued to trickle down his throat.

“You might want to take your brothers to the emergency room,” Axel advised, glancing over at where Roxas’ main tormentors sat huddled next to the couch, bleeding profusely. He smiled brightly, reaching around for his backpack. “And when I say that, I _do_ mean reasonably quickly, because, uh, this unit’s not going to be around for much longer. Whether you’re inside it or not is up to you.”

Suspiciously, Kadaj asked, “Why? What are you going to do?”

As his answer, Axel withdrew the rod of his mobile blowtorch, took out his lighter, and switched on the gas. The grin that split his face as he lit it was nearly obscene. The flame started off long and yellow, Axel quickly switching it up to blue and short, and very, very lethal. His eyes aglow, he simply looked at Kadaj, who was already moving, going to his brothers and hauling them up, the three of them shooting him alarmed glances as he stood there, grinning over the flame and waiting for them to open the door. He then touched the torch to the battered couch, and started to laugh as it caught alight. The trio escaped into the night with that sound ringing in their ears – and hopefully, in the future, their nightmares.

Axel waited until the couch was a guaranteed bonfire, then shut off his portable flame and sauntered off into the darkness, the flicker of flames lighting his way. By the time he reached the wall he’d climbed over in the next-door lot, the fire had started spreading to other units, Axel’s teeth bright in the gloom as he surveyed over what he had wrought. What a _delight_ it was to have made such a mark upon the world. Who cared about the timeline anymore? Perhaps this would teach the Organisation to send him off on sleep-away missions. _Somebody_ deserved punishment for what he’d been put through. Somebody needed to regret ever having put him near Roxas without expecting him to fall in love.

With the flames climbing higher behind him, Axel retraced his steps back to his rental. He climbed in, sitting in the silence with only his somewhat heavier breaths for company, staring out into the darkness. He could see the fiery glow expanding over the nearby buildings, wondered how far it would go before someone came to quench it. He heard himself chuckle, a noiseless, excited, breathless sound. His fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel, he reached for the keys, started the car up, and slowly, carefully, reversed out of the alleyway and returned to the main thoroughfare. As he drove along, he kept an eye out for any potential witnesses, but the area was clear. Axel was out without incident.

He drove back to his apartment to change and gather some clothes into a bag. Peeling his Organisation coat back off, he folded it carefully, returning it to the bag under the bed, zipping it shut and wondering if the next time he pulled it out it would be… for Roxas. The sense of elation born from the fight and the fire was starting to lose its edge, like a drug losing effect, the come-down beginning as, crouched on his bedroom floor, Axel started to consider the coming days.

The trio was out of the way; this he could be all but sure of. Certainly they would be somewhat… _physically_ incapable of pursuing him further on their own, and his threats about exposing the operation to the media would likely keep ShinRa in line as well. The last thing they’d want was to be associated to something so shady, in the public arena at any rate. The whole issue surrounding Roxas and the cornerstone fragment and the silver-haired guys, though… they had been what was occupying Axel. It had been his focus for so long now: keeping Roxas safe. Tracking down his attackers, confronting them, protecting the kid. Now, with them gone…

…Well, all that was left now was him. Him and Roxas. And Roxas’ death sentence, hanging over both their heads, though the blond couldn’t know it. With no one left to protect Roxas against, Axel’s white knight persona was nothing more than smoke and dust: he was himself the next great threat, and he couldn’t really go to town on his apartment with his hardware-store little flamethrower. Well, he could, but it wouldn’t achieve much.

As the bag containing his coat was slid slowly back under the bed, out of sight, Axel’s face gradually darkened. The gleam in his eyes went dull. He stayed there for a minute, hands splayed on his knees, bobbed down, staring at where the bag had been. Then, with the slowest of sighs, he straightened, hands sliding up his thighs until they were hanging at his sides. He stood in the emptiness of his apartment and simply… listened for a moment. Listened to the stillness within the walls. This – was this his life? What worth was it having a luxury pad back in his own time when he spent so much time in _others’_ times, just… alone with his thoughts, in places of varying states of crappy decay or motel plastique-chic?

Face creasing, he ran a hand across his brow, trying subconsciously to smooth out the scowl, or maybe the thoughts behind it. He couldn’t keep wasting time like this. Roxas would be expecting him back. Sucking his lips briefly into his mouth, then popping them back out with some modicum of determination, Axel strode to the bathroom. There, he inspected his appearance, post-fight, post-fire. His face held lingering traces of sooty dustiness, remnants of the storage yard and the smoke from the fire. He cupped a few handfuls of water from the faucet and quickly splashed the grime away. He dried his skin and looked again, tilting his head to each side. Where Kadaj had hit him was starting to colour up. That was frustrating. He would have to concoct some kind of lie to offer forth to Roxas, to allay his concerns and simultaneously smother any chance of suspicion. The kid… couldn’t be made aware of what was going on. Of what Axel _was._ When Lucrecia had tried to warn Roxas about him, man, if he’d had lasers in his eyes he’d have zapped her on the spot.

He didn’t want Roxas to be wary of him. Didn’t want the kid to… distance himself from him. He could try and tell himself that it was because of needing Roxas guileless and therefore easy to get to, but he already knew how much of a pile of bullshit that was. At the end of it, he didn’t want to lose out on whatever quality time with the kid he had left. He didn’t want to waste a second – and oh, those seconds, those wily, terrible seconds… they were ticking away. Like hounds nipping at Roxas’ heels, those seconds were passing, each one so _final,_ with Axel waiting at the end of them like the dynamite at the end of a burning fuse.

God… _damn_ it.

Jaw stiff, he grabbed a can of deodorant, shook it hard, and sent a spray over his body and hair, to overpower any clinging smokiness. Until he had time for another shower, that was going to be as good as it got for now.

He sent a spray of deodorant over his hair and body to choke out the clinging aroma of smoke, and inspected himself in the bathroom mirror for evidence of the night’s struggles.

 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

_“Hey. Hey, Axel.”_

He felt a cool hand push against his shoulder, a warm breath brush across his cheek. Eyes cracking open, Axel slowly turned his head to find bright blue eyes gazing down at him. The smile that crossed his mouth was entirely involuntary – it was just there, in a heartbeat, at the sight of Roxas.

“Hey,” the kid said softly, “we need to get going, or we’ll be late.”

His face disappeared a moment later, leaving Axel to wake up with difficulty. He had been sleeping so deeply, so comfortably, in the haven that was the blond’s bed. He’d never known contentment like it.

He could hear a rustling as Roxas moved about the room, gathering his things to begin the day – the night – and turned over onto his stomach. Rubbing the grit from his eyes, he watched Roxas’ slender, mostly naked form in the late afternoon light, a beam of decaying sun entering through the curtains and flashing across his skin each time he passed through it. He caught the kid’s attention by patting the mattress beside him, sleepily suggesting, “Or you could just come back to bed…?”

Roxas shot him an exasperated look, bending to fish his jeans off the floor. “Oh, sure, Axel – I could do that. And then we could turn up two hours late, together, with eeeeveryone waiting for you to let them in, and Ansem asking, ‘Why do the two of you smell like sex? Did I forget to tell you about _my policy on staff fraternisation?’”_

Axel lazily pointed out, “To be fair to me, he told me not to fraternise with anyone _outside of_ the Cornerstone Project. He didn’t say nothin’ about fraternising with the research staff.” He gave a quick, toothy grin, Roxas looking less than impressed.

“Mm- _hmm._ And what about _my_ policy of not fraternising with a certain someone when that someone is doing its best to completely fuck me _over_ by being a lazy ass who doesn’t get out of bed on time? Or would you rather just spend night after cold, lonely night in your _own_ bed, in that mouldy apartment in Lowtown?”

Damn it. The kid knew how to fight dirty. “Okay – I’m up,” Axel groaned, rolling to the edge of the bed and sat, scratching his hands through his hair and giving his head a shake.

 _“Thank you,”_ Roxas sighed, lifting his eyes heavenward. “I’m taking first shower. _Don’t_ try to join me again,” he warned, before Axel could go beyond opening his mouth with a glint in his eye. “That is reserved solely, _solely_ for non-work hours.” He pointed sharply at Axel to emphasise his point, keeping the finger outstretched as he left the room.

“…Spoilsport,” the man called out after him. He didn’t quite catch Roxas’ response – the kid was already in the bathroom, closing the door – but he smiled at the tone. He heard the pipes shudder a little through the house as the shower came on a minute later, and sat in contemplation, sheets wrapped around his waist, one foot lowered to the floor, eyes roaming slowly around the room. He was growing… accustomed to Roxas’ bedroom. He had reached the point now where he spent more time here than he did in his own bedroom, his own apartment. It had become natural for him to just… follow Roxas home. Too natural, perhaps. Being with the kid was as easy as breathing. Axel was so used to it now, used to each day being like the one before, and where once that would have driven him half-insane with boredom, these days he actually _anticipated_ it, _enjoyed_ it. He could put up with the lack of activity, the boredom of sitting night after night in the guard station, if at the end of it he could be around Roxas. Eating meals with him, talking with him, rolling into bed with him…

Of course, the more time they spent together, the more careful he had to become. That was starting to become a little… trickier to manage. He had a full backstory for himself, naturally, answers with interesting details to all the most basic questions. But the lies were feeling increasingly wooden out of his mouth. He was a professional as a point of pride, but there was something about looking into Roxas’ trusting, curious face and speaking an untruth that threatened to make him tongue-tied. The made-up things became harder to grasp, and his tracking of the various lies more muddled.

Not… that it would last that much longer now. The three month mark was rapidly approaching. Too many days were passing, each heartbeat signifying another grain of sand falling in an almost completely bottom-heavy hourglass.

As invariably happened when such a revelation struck, Axel’s previous good mood was doused away. He became aware of the sound of the shower running in the silence, the dimming of the room as the afternoon’s light took on deeper tones of amber. He felt both the light and life that existed here, and the depth of emptiness that would be left when both were gone. The bungalow would be sold on, he supposed. This bedroom would belong to others, probably gained at a bargain if the killing took place here, as he intended it to. He had never considered such things before. Never thought about what happened to the deceased’s effects when they were gone. He looked around again, really _looking –_ thinking about how the time limit, whatever was left, applied as much to all he saw as to their owner.

He didn’t… like this train of thought. It would likely be wise to – stop. Now.

Sucking in a breath, he stood sharply from the bed, untangling himself from the sheets, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the bottom drawer of the nightstand and yanking them on. Roxas had bestowed the nightstand’s three drawers upon him at some point, when the clothes on his back had stopped being sufficient for the lengths he was staying. Bit by bit, Axel’s belongings were creeping into the bungalow, bits and pieces to allow him to get by, to not have to go home just for a fresh shirt, some clean jeans, or a toothbrush. Hell, it was the closest thing to a home he’d had since he came to this timeline. It gave him a tingle of pleasure to see his stuff strewn about like this, along with a twist in his gut that told him he’d have to make particularly sure he’d got it all back when he did his disappearing act. God damn it. It didn’t matter how hard he tried; these days, he just couldn’t escape the fact that it was going to be all too soon that he made the hit.

He made his way downstairs in his underwear, the days growing warmer as the seasons changed, spring when he’d arrived, on the cusp of summer now. While Roxas’ shower continued, he went to the kitchen and fished out a frypan, rattling around between the cramped counters and the refrigerator, getting their breakfast going. He glanced at the clock. Four-fifteen. He was going to have to leave soon.

When Roxas reappeared, fresh-faced and damp, he grabbed a spatula from a drawer and used it to poke Axel out of the way. “I’ll take over. You’re running out of time, go shower.”

“Yes, Mother. Thank you, Mother.” He paused to lace his fingers through Roxas’ clean hair, tugging his head close to quietly place a kiss within the blond spikes. He closed his eyes, letting Roxas’ breezy scent fill him. It made him think of – wide-open spaces and sunlight. It made him feel like he had a heart, instead of the truth of the matter, which was that he was nothing less than a monster.

When he pulled back, Roxas, expression gentle, shooed him away. “Go. You won’t have time to eat at this rate.”

Axel turned from him without a word. This was getting harder and harder.

By the time Axel had showered and changed, Roxas had served the food. The kid was already partway through his own, despite being the one who had time to spare, the need to hurry infecting him as he encouraged the tall man to quickly eat. Axel sat down and picked up his cutlery, looking at his breakfast with absolutely no appetite. Not today. Not… lately. But he couldn’t let on to Roxas that anything was awry; and so, carefully obscuring the heaviness his face longed to give expression to, he obediently played his role.

“Oh, hey, by the way,” Roxas rotated Axel’s coffee mug so that he could reach the handle, urging him with a gesture to be quick about sucking it down, “Hayner and Olette have invited us to their place for dinner on the weekend. Sunday night. They want to meet you and see if you pass the official best friends check.” He bumped Axel teasingly with his shoulder, adding, “And you fucked up pretty bad for a while with Pence, so make sure you make a good impression. Right now, it’s my word against his.”

Axel laughed, unable to keep the splinter of nervousness from his voice as he said, “Really? You’re sure that’s a good idea?”

Roxas naturally mistook his anxiety for something more run-of-the-mill, smiling fondly, tugging him close to give him a peck on the cheek. “Relax. Those were… different times. They’ll love you.”

At the mention of that word – the L-word – both men went a little still. Roxas was the first to move, it had only been a hesitation, swiftly rubbing a thumb over where he’d kissed Axel and returning to his food, continuing, a little fast now, “Anyway, there’s nothing to worry about. They’re my friends, they’re like my family, and they know we’ve been going out for a while now, so they’re not just going to reject you.” He smirked a little, becoming cocky now, sending Axel – whose heart still felt locked in place in his chest, fingers of ice wrapped around it – a mischievous look. “Besides, you got _my_ approval, didn’t you? Theirs will be cake-walk in comparison.”

“Yeah,” Axel heard himself say, through what felt like a thick fog of cotton, “it’s hard to imagine them disliking me on sight like you did.”

“Hey!” Roxas flicked his arm. “I did not, and you know it. In fact…” He trailed off, sized Axel up a little, as if deciding whether or not to say what was on his mind. Eventually, a little bashfully, he confessed, “I actually sort of _liked_ you on sight. I thought you were, you know…” A small smile tugged his mouth. “…sexy.”

Axel turned his gaze to the kid, studying him for a moment. He knew this was the part where he was supposed to come back with something witty and self-confident, some kind of teasing comment that would make Roxas roll his eyes, claim to regret ever having admitted such a thing… but his head was empty of such things. All he could think was that, right from the start, from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other… one or both of them had been fucked. If Roxas had been attracted to him right from the beginning, then there’d never really been any hope. They’d have become like this sooner or later, no matter what. It was like they were adhering to a script of some kind, an event that was bound to happen one way or another, with no chance of recourse. It was like fate. It was fate that they were together, fate that he’d have to kill Roxas. From the moment that Axel had drawn breath in this world, Roxas was fated to die in it before his time.

He thought, for a flickering moment, of the timeline-native version of himself that was out there somewhere, wondered what his chances would be of finding the tiny version of Axel and killing him, instead. Just erasing _himself,_ so that Roxas wouldn’t need to be. But then it would just be someone else being sent back for Roxas, someone _else_ seducing him in order to get close to him, and that – that was _not_ a scenario Axel could stomach. As he stared at Roxas, there was no doubt in him that he was the only one for the blond, that Roxas was the only one for him. It was a stupid, sick destiny that had brought them to this point. He hated it with all his being, just about as much as he desperately loved being with Roxas.

Disconcerted by all the staring, Roxas cocked a questioning eyebrow. “Ax-?”

He was silenced with a kiss. There was an instant of intensity to it that Axel managed to restrain only at the last possible second. The kid would be confused if he let it show. Confusion could lead to suspicion, if he was left to dwell on it. He trusted Axel implicitly – much to the redhead’s continuing dismay – but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be shaken by unusual behaviour.

Breathing unsteadily, Axel pulled away after a beat, eyelids fluttering open to find Roxas looking flustered, cheeks a little pink. Anxious to dispel the moment, he stretched his mouth into a rictus and boasted, “I knew you wanted me.”

Roxas blinked quickly. For a terrible moment, Axel wondered if the kid was going to point out the hiccup in his nature, that second of… otherness, the brief flash of him being out of character, and the awkward manner in which he attempted to wedge himself back in. What could he say if Roxas started asking probing questions? His mind was already blank.

But, after a pause… Roxas simply sighed a little. Reaching up, he pinched the tip of Axe’s chin sharply, tugging him over to bump foreheads. “You are so full of yourself.” When Axel leered at him, relief held tightly in check until he found himself some privacy, the blond released him and kicked the base of his stool, pointing out, “You’re also going to be late if you’re not on the road in about three minutes’ time.”

Axel swung around to glance at the clock, and threw out the curse word he knew was expected of him. He tossed back the last of his coffee and hopped away from the counter to gather his things, taking a second to gargle with mouthwash in lieu of actually brushing his teeth. As he passed back by the kitchen, keys in hand, he swung quickly by the blond, who was starting to clear away their dishes, pressing a minty kiss onto his mouth. “So that’s a yes to this weekend?” Roxas asked.

Axel couldn’t fight it without rousing suspicion. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only if that Peter kid greets me with a hug and a wedding ring.” He gave the chuckling blond another swift kiss, and turned on his heel, leaving the kitchen with a smile that wiped itself from his face the instant he was out of the house.

Shit. More people who would know his name, his face, his connection to Roxas. When he vanished from the timeline, they would be a lingering trace left behind, well aware, since they were most likely not idiots, that he was responsible for the murder of their friend. It tended to be… better to not meet loved ones. All practicalities aside, Axel didn’t want to think about people being actually _sad_ that he had erased someone from their lives; it wasn’t part of his job to think of the fucking _consequences_ of what he was doing. He was just charged with _doing_ it, and treating it as if it was as emotional as the pulling of weeds from an overgrown garden. To come in contact with, to get to _know_ the people who would be personally affected by the coming death… that wasn’t the sort of self-flagellation he generally indulged in.

Just – _shit._ If this job was over before the weekend, he would be thrilled. And devastated. He would be – God, he didn’t even know anymore. He’d never thought so much about another person in his entire fucking _life,_ let alone a contract.

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore.

.o.O.o.

It was on the Tuesday that Roxas invited Axel to his friends’ house. Three days later, Axel was halfway through the local paper, and halfway through the night. Fridays were quiet at the Research Committee building. Regular staff disappeared for the weekend, while the research staff on the Cornerstone Project still had a whole extra night to go before they could look forward to sleeping in. The monitors glowed off to one side of the guard station, empty of motion. Nobody would be leaving for hours yet.

When the phone rang, it startled Axel so sharply that he visibly jolted. Wide-eyed, he glanced down at his newspaper – now crumpled – then reached for the cacophonous apparatus. His stomach was sinking, chest tightening. Never once, in all his time here, had that phone rung. He had all but forgotten it was there. Eyebrows knitted, he drew a breath. “…Hello?”

_“It takes you that long to answer the telephone? Just what were you doing?”_

Ansem. Full of brightness and joy, as per usual.

Axel cleared his throat. “I, uh, apologise, Professor. I wasn’t expecting the phone to ring.”

 _“That’s a pitiful excuse. Regardless, the purpose of this call is to inform you that you will need to remain onsite for several hours extra tonight.”_ There was an element of breathlessness to the man’s voice that Axel was unaccustomed to hearing.

Skin beginning to prickle, he carefully inquired, “Several hours? Why is that?”

 _“For reasons beyond your ken,”_ the man brusquely responded. _“You will be paid for the overtime. That is all, thank you.”_ Ansem disconnected the call, leaving Axel with his mouth hanging open, any further questions he might have reasonably had dismissed in advance by the overbearing man.

Lips pressing thin, Axel slowly hung the receiver back on its cradle. His heart had started a heavy, sick thudding in his chest. This – didn’t bode well, did it? The research team didn’t ‘stay late’. They worked their asses off, trickled out when they felt they’d each done enough for the night, and then dragged themselves back in the following evening to do it all over again. They had six-day weeks, work hours that consumed their nightly existence; they didn’t _need_ to stay late. They got plenty done in the time given. But now, breaking that endless cycle, the wash-in-wash-out way in which they flowed towards and away from the Committee building, for the first time, right towards the end of his tenure – overtime.

Axel’s fingernails found his palms, newspaper lying forgotten on the desk. He stared out through the solid window at the cold hallway beyond. Was this – it? Was tonight the night? He thought fleetingly of how he’d briefly wished for the job to finish so he wouldn’t need to face the Sunday night dinner, and loathed himself with every ounce of his being. This was _Roxas_ that it was happening to; he should be praying for a thousand dinners before he had to fulfil the terms of the contract. How could he want it to be over? How could he –

He was finding it difficult to draw a deep enough breath. Lowering his head, Axel reined in his mounting panic, forcing several long inhalations to settle his rapid heart rate. _Stay calm._ He couldn’t let his façade crumble now. If anyone saw him like this – if Roxas saw him like this – his distress would prompt questions. Nothing was certain yet; there was a chance that this was unrelated to Roxas’ contract. Until he knew more – until he… _knew –_ Axel couldn’t leap to any conclusions. It would serve no purpose. He just had to let it unfold, and wait, and watch. That was what he was here for, right?

It was the longest night that Axel could ever recall.

The regular sort of time that people began leaving came and went, with nary a rumble from the direction of the freight elevator. He had long ago ceased trying to concentrate on anything. He’d even whipped out the oft-maligned porn mag, anything to distract, but it was just… trash. He couldn’t look at it. It ended up in the wastebasket. Instead, he passed the time tapping an uneven rhythm on the desk, thumb and knuckles alternating against the wood, the knuckles of his other hand pressed against his mouth, one knee jigging up and down, an ear pricked for the elevator.

Dawn passed. Axel watched the parking lot lighten in black and white on the monitors. Saturday began, the man rubbing his eyes to dispel the scratchy, dry quality that came from too many hours spent open. Ordinarily, by now, he’d have been in bed with Roxas. Possibly having sex, but more than likely with the blond wrapped in his arms, their breaths steady as the world woke around them, a dome of tranquillity protecting the bungalow from all its noise and motion. That he was still sitting here, waiting to find out if today was the _day,_ if Roxas was going to die by his hand – if those sorts of mornings were a thing of the past before he’d even had a chance to do it one last time for memory’s sake – then that was… it was just…

It was wrong. Everything, all of this. It was just wrong.

The hours continued marching. Axel, bleary-eyed and hollow inside, was slouched in his chair when the laboratory elevator’s doors finally parted to allow a crowd of people on. It was almost the entire research team, Roxas among them. He looked up at the security camera, hair rumpled, eyes heavy, but lit from within by an excitement that chilled Axel to the core. Knowing that he’d be watching, Roxas gave the camera the briefest of smiles. Axel growled quietly, dragging his hands through his hair.

_Come on. Game face. They’re coming._

He glanced at the clock. Ten-fucking-thirty in the morning. They’d had a sixteen-hour workday, and you wouldn’t even know it to look at them. They were exhausted, every one of them, but there was an energy to the crowd that passed Axel that morning that he didn’t like at all. They barely glanced his way as they went by, too caught up in their own conversation, things that Axel didn’t understand even though he listened carefully for clues. It was all science jargon being thrown about. He’d have to confirm it, later, with Roxas himself. The blond was stuck firmly at the centre of the crowd, able only to toss him a sympathetic look as he went by, swept along with their pace. Axel felt his mouth stretch to mimic a smile in return, one that felt like a knife slice across his face.

In a few minutes, they had all piled into the elevator up to the parking lot, and were once again out of earshot, though not out of sight. Axel’s gaze tracked their progress upward, the gaggle splitting up to gravitate towards the various cars littering the underground space. One by one, they started up and drove away. Roxas was fourth to leave. Soon, there was no one. Only Ansem’s car remained. Axel couldn’t leave until Ansem did.

A dragging half-hour later, the desk phone rang a second time. Again, Axel jumped, but was quicker to grab up the receiver. “Professor?”

 _“I’m the only one left in the building,”_ the man said. _“I’ll be remaining for a while yet. There are formulae to write up. I will require you back at four-thirty this afternoon, so rest while you can. Until then, you may take your leave.”_

Axel was quiet for a moment. “…Yes, sir. Thank you.”

He hung up. For a wild second, he had been tempted to try and coax information out of the man. It wasn’t like he couldn’t go downstairs and make it happen the hard way – one elevator ride downward, and he could find out everything he needed to know. Ansem would talk; he was a stubborn old fool, but Axel had his ways and means. Nobody was here. There was no camera feed in the lab. He could find out whatever had changed, what had caused such a thrill in the researchers.

Of course, he wasn’t going to. It was his desire to hear what he wanted that prompted such a crazy notion at the back of his mind. He wanted to go down there and break Ansem’s fingers one by one until the man told him that they’d made _no_ progress, and especially that Roxas had nothing to do with any of it. But the fact that it was such a _strong_ impulse… that made Axel hurry to leave the building. He didn’t want to still be here if his resolve wavered.

When he reached his rental, he stopped to regain a little composure. Only once he was within its confines could he allow his tension to show, leaning his weary head against the steering wheel and releasing a slow, heavy sigh. He closed his eyes, focused on his breathing, trying not to grit his teeth too tightly.

Inhaling sharply through his nose, Axel sat back up after several moments. He needed to speak to Roxas. He needed to find out what was going on. He tugged his cell phone out of the rental’s glove box – Ansem didn’t approve of him being able to communicate with the outside world while in the building, in case he was selling company secrets from his lofty position in the guard station – and switched it on. There was a voice message waiting for him. Roxas. He quickly accessed it and held the phone to his ear, feeling a terrible softness spread through his chest as the blond’s voice came to him: _“Axel, it’s me. Listen, you should go back to your place today. I’m way too exhausted, and Ansem wants us back in six hours. Sorry. See you… well, this afternoon, I guess. Fuck.”_ There was a hesitation, then, _“Sleep well.”_

The message concluded. Axel sat back, ending the call with a thumb. He rested his forehead against his knuckles for a minute, then scrubbed them fiercely across his brow and started the car up. For the first time in a while, he was heading back to his apartment for more than just a brief stop-off. When had he got so accustomed to being more or less ever-present at Roxas’ place? Hell, he was practically living with the blond. On his part, it was because he wanted to be around Roxas as much as possible before the end; for Roxas, he was pretty sure it was sympathy, since he knew just how crap Axel’s place was. They were both a lot happier with him in a house that didn’t carry the risk of him contracting some awful fungal infection from the walls.

Even knowing what was coming, the emptiness that he felt as he entered the apartment, knowing that Roxas was out there sleeping soundly without him, was one of the coldest, most disheartening moments of Axel’s existence. He stood in the entrance, the door bolted behind him, and felt his shoulders slump. He was so tired, but simultaneously so despondent right now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do anything more than stare at the ceiling. He walked past the kitchen, ideas of food redundant since he hadn’t restocked his supplies lately, all his recent purchases residing in Roxas’ refrigerator across the city. Anyway, he wasn’t hungry. He couldn’t face the idea of eating right now, even if there’d been a four-course meal waiting for him.

Instead, he took himself off to bed, climbing with a moue of distaste into dusty sheets and blankets. The air was cold, despite the warm, late-spring temperature outside. His uniform sat folded neatly at the foot of the bed, ready to be slithered back into when his alarm went off in too few hours’ time.

Curling into himself, Axel tried to get comfortable, without much success. He tried to sleep, also without much success, and, before he knew it, it was time again for work.

.o.O.o.

Horrendously sleep-deprived, sitting at the guard station, Axel felt like something dead that had been scraped off the pavement and stuck back together with discarded chewing gum. The researchers passed one at a time, looking about the same level of dishevelled as he was. None of them were dealing well with the sudden intensification of work hours, but at least the research staff looked vaguely happy about it. Axel could boast no such positivity.

When Roxas appeared on the monitors, his heart leapt, even as his stomach twisted. He did his best to straighten his clothing and hair as he waited for the blond to appear, but apparently still looked like five different kinds of shit judging from the slight hike of Roxas’ eyebrows as they looked at one another through the glass. Roxas looked weary, but a little more refreshed than he had when leaving that morning. Axel supposed that the difference between them was that Roxas wasn’t being torn up on the inside.

“Hey.” He smiled crookedly for the kid, his voice hoarse from the lack of sleep.

“Hey.” Roxas’ blue eyes flickered up and down what was visible of Axel at his desk. “Did you drink when you went home? You look…”

“I might have,” Axel lied. At least it was an excuse that verified his appearance. “A liquor breakfast is the breakfast of champions, you know.”

“…Nice. Very healthy.” Roxas dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as Axel registered his ID. “Sorry you couldn’t come over.”

Axel bit back a sigh. He gave whatever passed for an understanding smile when his face felt like a block of cement. “You needed to sleep. It was a long night. Things seem – busy.” Cautiously, casually, he asked, “Big news on the research front?”

Roxas shook his head, though with a slight uneasiness that had Axel biting the inside of his lip. “No, nothing like that. Well, I mean, progress – definitely progress – but…” He glanced along the hallway, down towards the laboratory, then leaned towards the glass. Axel could see the shadows under his eyes. “I can’t really – talk about it,” Roxas murmured. “It’s related to Lucrecia’s research. If Ansem found out you know anything…”

There was a sudden lightening of Axel’s heavy heart. He blinked, nodded hurriedly in comprehension. Roxas couldn’t go into the details right here in the hallway. With everything Axel knew already about the project and Roxas’ abilities with the cornerstone, he was sure the kid would have hinted something if he was directly involved, if he’d managed some kind of breakthrough – but instead, it was related to Lucrecia, stuff he couldn’t comfortably divulge. It wasn’t his to tell.

Axel nearly laughed, a frantic sound bubbling in his throat. _It wasn’t happening yet._ Roxas was still – safe. “Well, at least she left you guys something to work with. I won’t keep you, then.”

He passed the identification back through the window, Roxas casting a fond look at him for a lingering moment. “…Have a good night, Axel.” There was a gentleness to his tone that made Axel’s mind go blank… and then the blond had moved on, tucking his ID into a pocket, shuffling sleepily along the hallway. Axel was distracted from the moment by more staff arrivals, more cards to swipe, more cars appearing on the monitors. When everyone had registered and gone down to the lab, leaving Axel once more to his own thoughts, he lay his head on his arms and let loose a shuddering breath. The force of his relief dissolved all else. Thank God. Today wasn’t the day. He still – still had time.

All of a sudden, Axel felt exhausted. Not that he hadn’t been already, but this, this was different – this was the sort of deep, bone-weariness that made him want to go to sleep in the corner of the room. The relief was a sedative, all the tension yanked out of his stiff muscles now that he knew Roxas wasn’t going to die yet. He still had the entire night to get through, which seemed almost insurmountable… but he would manage. He straightened, slapped his cheeks sharply to wake himself up. He could do this. Considering what he’d thought he might have to do… staying awake was nothing. He could stay awake for the rest of the _year_ if it meant not having to hurt Roxas yet.

He allowed himself a shaky smile, a nervous laugh that sounded dull in the confines of the office. His expression then trembled, and fell. Dragging his hands slowly down his face, Axel muttered the mantra that was forever drifting in and out of his head: _“What am I doing…?”_ He was going to drive himself insane at this rate. What was going to happen was inevitable. Could he endure this torment a second time? Or a third?

…Well, no use in wondering about it. The only thing left to do now was get through the night, and hope that Roxas let him into his bed at the end of it. He needed…

He just needed to hold him for a while.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Axel awoke on the Sunday evening to a pair of lips softly on his own.

After all the hours spent at the Committee building, he and Roxas had come straight back to the blond’s place after Ansem let them go and simply fallen asleep. Roxas’ near non-stop working combined with Axel’s emotional upheaval and its fortunate resolution had left them respectively shattered. The feel of Roxas in his arms had acted as more of a tranquiliser than if he’d taken a handful of sleeping pills, Axel slipping into deep, warm slumber like it was a well from which he’d happily never have emerged again.

However, being woken in this manner made it reasonably okay.

As he gradually regained consciousness, he started kissing back, feeling Roxas’ lips curve into a smile. When he felt the blond begin pulling away, he lifted his head, chasing the kiss, hearing Roxas chuckle quietly. Opening his eyes, he focused on the kid, sitting next to him with one hand resting on Axel’s bare stomach, an indulgent expression on his face. “I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up,” Roxas said, tracing idle circles on Axel’s skin. “I’ve been kissing you on and off for the better part of twenty minutes.”

“Mm.” Axel glowed at the thought, lifting his arm to lace fingers with the hand slowly stroking his stomach. “Careful. If you keep waking me so gently like this, I might get used to it. You won’t ever be allowed to stop.”

As he tugged a grinning Roxas back down, cupping his other hand around the back of the kid’s head and pulling him in for another kiss, the weight of his words started to hit his sleepy brain. Roxas’ soft giggles, contented and happy, hit him like a knife. _Never allowed to stop?_ Axel was the very one who would make it _all_ come to an end. How many moments like this did he even have left? The scare at the Research Committee had highlighted for him just how much he was on borrowed time. Pretty much literally, really. This time was never his to begin with.

His heart began to throb painfully, Roxas unaware that anything had changed right up until Axel grabbed him sharply. The blond gave a small gasp of surprise as Axel’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, swinging him around and pushing him roughly into the bed.

Expression startled, a tousle-haired Roxas blinked up at him, croaked, “Axel?” and then was firmly silenced as the man seized his mouth in a deeper, more aggressive kiss than the ones that preceded it. Roxas’ voice became a muffled hum, then fell away, replaced by Axel’s possessive tongue. The sudden silence was broken only by harsh breaths and the wet smack of lips as Axel seemed intent on sucking the air right out of the kid’s lungs. After several long moments of this, Roxas started making noises again, little grunts to remind the man that he did, in fact, need to draw breath. Axel felt a hand flutter against his back, then pat a few times, trying to catch his attention.

The man broke away, transferring his attention to Roxas’ bare throat, nipping and sucking at the taut flesh he found as the kid panted the early evening air. He pawed Roxas needfully, a hand dragging across his chest, rubbing roughly at a nipple before caressing firmly downward, all the while continuing to fervently attack the kid’s neck. He heard and felt a breathless little laugh stutter from Roxas’ throat, then the hand at his back again, patting at him. “Axel – Axel, we can’t, we don’t have time…”

Ignoring him, Axel pushed a hand past the drawstring on the blond’s sweatpants and grasped his cock, dragging his tongue roughly up his jaw before returning to his mouth. Roxas’ brows twitched together, the kid tapping him more insistently now. He forced his head to the side, gasping, still with a smile but one which was becoming increasingly puzzled, “Axel, seriously – cut it out. We need to get ready for Hayner and Olette’s.”

“Forget ‘em,” Axel growled, rolling his hips against Roxas, hand still massaging him inside his pants. “Let’s just stay here and fuck.”

“Axel – no –” Roxas was laughing a little, hands moving to Axel’s shoulders, trying to ease him back. What he found was that the redhead was entirely immovable. Axel didn’t budge, didn’t show any signs of halting. The blond gasped a little as the man’s teeth scraped sharply across the pulse point beneath his jaw, his hands growing firmer on Axel, elbows digging slightly into the mattress, trying, to no avail, to push him off. “Hey. Seriously.” There was a splinter of alarm touching his voice. “Time to stop. I really want to go to this dinner. We can always –” He suddenly yelped as Axel bit him.

Axel groaned as a knee abruptly found his gut, his hand jerking involuntarily from around Roxas’ shaft, which, although it had started to respond initially to his touches, now had gone entirely soft.

Sitting up sharply, scooting away from the coughing man, Roxas demanded, “What the _fuck,_ Axel?”

Rolling onto his side, grasping his assaulted middle, Axel drew his knees up and squinted one eye, wheezing, “You didn’t have to go _that_ far.”

“That’s _my_ fucking line!”

Angrily, Roxas got out of the bed, Axel reaching feebly for him, coaxing, “No, come on, Roxas, come back. I’m sorry. I won’t bite again.”

“This isn’t about biting!” Snatching up the blankets, Roxas tossed them over Axel, the world going dark. “I said _no,_ Axel. What the _hell_ is your problem? We go two nights without sex and you turn sexual predator on me? What are you, an addict?”

Untangling himself from the sheets, Axel sat up, replying hotly, “Of course not. Jesus, sorry for being _passionate.”_

“That wasn’t passion,” Roxas snapped.

He grabbed some clothes out of a drawer and stalked from the room, Axel calling after him, “No, Roxas, come on – don’t storm off – come –” When he heard Roxas’ steps pattering down the stairs, he flared, slamming a fist to the bed and yelling, “Come _back!”_

_“Fuck you.”_

He heard the bathroom door bang shut. A minute later, the shower started up, the water coming on hard enough to make the pipes bang. Axel heaved for air for several moments, then grabbed his head in his hands and snarled, _“Fuck!”_ He had – he’d lost control. He’d been overwhelmed by the notion of Roxas dying, of this being a limited-time arrangement, and – and what? What the hell _had_ he been trying to achieve just now? Had that been the beginning of some attempt to turn Roxas off him, to break the relationship before it could break Axel? Or was it just panic, the need to possess the kid as much as possible before the inevitable occurred?

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck._

He dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and pressed inward. No wonder Roxas was pissed. He’d doubtless felt the edge of intention in Axel’s actions. If nothing else, he’d stated pretty fucking plainly that he wasn’t in the mood, and Axel had pushed on regardless. That was enough to make anyone angry. God. He needed to apologise. He needed to make this right. If the time he had with Roxas was going to expire sooner rather than later, then he at least needed to make sure that time was _good –_ not go around terrorising the kid.

Throwing away the covers, he slipped out of Roxas’ bed and made his way quickly downstairs. At the bathroom door he stopped, shook his hands out, gulped a breath and hoped that he hadn’t completely fucked everything up. He tried the doorhandle and found it locked, so instead knocked, features tight. “Roxas?” he called, trying to be heard above the rush of water. When there was no response from within, he placed his mouth to the corner of the door and said loudly, “I’m sorry. I got carried away, I should never have – _shit.”_ He rubbed his forehead agitatedly, then tried again: “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that. You were right, I should have stopped.” When still there was no answer was forthcoming, he begged, “Please. Please, don’t freeze me out, Roxas. I’ll never do it again.”

There was a long pause, then the shower shut off, Axel’s ears straining through the thick, sudden hush. He heard a faint rustle from within, then the bathroom door opened, Axel stepping back. Roxas stood sternly in the doorway, rivulets of water trickling down his face, hair plastered to his head, brows low. He gripped a towel tightly around his hips, the other hand pressed against the doorframe, and levelled a hard look at the shamefaced man.

“…You worried me back there,” he said firmly. “You were way out of line. All I wanted was to get up and get ready to go to my friends’ place for dinner. The whole reason we’re even _going_ is so I can introduce you to them, Axel.”

“I know,” Axel quickly replied. “I’m sorry. It was – stupid, and selfish, and inconsiderate of me. I’m an asshole. It won’t happen again.”

“It had better not,” Roxas answered. “Or there’ll be consequences.”

Axel mutely nodded, the blond staring at him coldly for a minute, before, apparently deciding the man had learned his lesson, his expression eased somewhat. Axel wanted to helplessly laugh over the sense of control the kid evidently felt he had in their relationship. And it wasn’t like he didn’t – but what did it even matter in the end? Whatever hold he had over Axel wasn’t going to last beyond a bullet.

But at least Axel’s moment of madness hadn’t sabotaged them. He hadn’t quite gone far enough to do anything unforgivable. It made him glad that Roxas had kneed him when he did, and sickened him to think of what he might have done if the kid hadn’t brought him to his senses. He scarcely know who, or what, he was anymore. The two Axels he felt himself to be were colliding in a messy, violent fashion that was leaking out into real life, and it was starting to encompass Roxas. He couldn’t ever, ever let something like that occur again.

“…I’m a terrible person,” he softly confessed, Roxas looking up at him, troubled by the seriousness with which he’d said it. After a beat, the kid shook his head.

“You’re not. You’re a little hot-headed, maybe,” he added, lifting a hand to knock his knuckles against the top of Axel’s head, “but you’re not a terrible person.” He smiled faintly, the tension of the last little while finally breaking. “I wouldn’t be with you if you were.”

Chest aching, Axel bent down and kissed him, very gently, no hint of his earlier aggression in sight. Roxas returned the kiss chastely, Axel drawing away after a moment, gazing down at the kid, who held his eyes with calm forgiveness. 

_I am… a terrible person._

It was perhaps the first time it had really occurred to Axel.

“Let’s finish getting ready. I want to go show you off,” Roxas smiled. Axel kissed his knuckles and complied, carrying the heavy knowledge that he was a vile, cold-blooded murderer quietly with him up the stairs.

.o.O.o.

Dressed in a clean white shirt and jeans, holding a bottle of white wine in one hand, the other intertwined with Roxas’, who also held a bottle of red, Axel found himself being led up to the front door of a small house several miles from Roxas’ bungalow. He could hear music dimly through the walls and windows.

The door swung open before they got to it, a tall, thin young man with a cynical face greeting them with a grin and folded arms. “Well, look who made it. We wondered if you guys got lost or something.” Axel recognised him from the morning after the silver-haired trio first broke into Roxas’ home. He was the one who had turned up with Pence to keep an eye on Roxas. His gaze falling on Axel, he held out an amiable hand. “How’s it going? I’m Hayner.”

The best friend. Axel grasped his hand firmly. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

Hayner stepped back, inviting them in, the music loud now that they were inside, a savoury scent exuding from the nearby kitchen. “We brought wine,” Roxas loudly offered, holding up his bottle of red, Axel following suit and extending the white, Hayner brightly taking them and reading the labels.

“Oh, awesome. This is way better than the shit we can afford. Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll go pour drinks.” Questioningly, he glanced at Axel. “Red or white, dude?”

“Ah – white for now. Thanks.”

Sending him a pleased smile, Roxas took Axel by the hand and led him into a sitting room, the house possessed by a theme of mustard-yellow walls and a hodgepodge of used furniture that somehow worked in an eclectic sort of way. Standing in front of the stereo, flipping through a wallet of CD’s with a drink in one hand, was Pence, the guy glancing over as they entered the room, smiling happily at the sight of Roxas, and somewhat more wryly as his gaze found Axel. “Fancy seeing you guys here,” the kid quipped, Roxas grinning a little sheepishly.

“Have you met my boyfriend yet?” he joked.

Head tilting, Pence held a hand out to Axel. “I don’t think I’ve met _this_ guy,” he said. “I remember this one time meeting a guy kinda _like_ you, but that guy was a total dick, and Roxas wasn’tinterested in him. I’m sure you’re someone else completely.”

“I think you might be right,” Axel agreed, shaking the proffered hand before asking, “What was your name again? I remember Roxas telling me in the car. Was it Pete-something? Pet-” Roxas slapped him across the back of the head. “…How’s it going, Pence?”

Pence smirked. “I’m good, Axel. Thanks. How is it working security?”

“A laugh a minute. I’m just sad I don’t get to see that Seifer guy more often.”

“I guess you’ll just have to console yourself with me while you and Seifer do your ‘ships in the night’ impression,” Roxas sympathised, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Axel cast a look down at him, the corner of his mouth twitching up at the mocking grin on the kid’s face. “…Yeah. That works for me, I guess.”

“Hello, there!” The conversation halted there as a brown-haired girl came bounding in, a glass of white wine in each hand, which she promptly thrust at Axel and Roxas. Eyes bright, she looked almost breathlessly up at Axel. “I’m Olette – I’m so happy to meet you. We haven’t seen much of Roxas lately, between his work and you, but we’ve heard a _lot_ about you, and we’re all _so pleased_ that he’s found you because he’s been _so_ –”

“Ahaha, okay, Olette, thanks for the wine, did you grab a glass for yourself? What’s for dinner?” Roxas broke in before the girl could gabble out anything further, obviously embarrassed and the faintest bit panic-stricken. Axel couldn’t help but smile broadly, tasting his wine and beaming at Pence, who rolled his eyes in return.

“You got lucky, Ace,” he pointedly said.

“You’re telling me,” Axel replied, looping an arm around the blond. Olette all but squealed as Roxas’ cheeks coloured pink. Axel chuckled, wine glass at his lips. The way he had started the night was long gone from Roxas’ mind, and almost from his own.

As time went on, Axel found that he was – enjoying himself. The atmosphere at Hayner and Olette’s was comfortable, very… low-key. The dynamic between the four friends was extremely laid-back, after nearly a lifetime of knowing each other, and they were unfailingly welcoming of newcomer Axel. They were such… _nice_ people. Uncomplicated. They showed Axel another aspect of Roxas: also nice, also uncomplicated, a reflection of the cheerful Olette, the humorous Pence, the outspoken Hayner. He was more natural and relaxed here than Axel had ever seen him – perfectly at home in his skin, in the group. It warmed Axel to see him like this, to see the way they interacted. The kid was valued here, not for his skills as a scientist or how sexy he was, but just because he was Roxas. It was a hell of a lot more honest than anything he’d ever offered the kid – and here he was, being paraded in front of them because Roxas wanted them to know him because he liked him so much.

Roxas noticed him start to withdraw, the two of them wedged beside Pence on the two-seater couch while Hayner and Olette shared the armchair. With the music still loud, it was with subtlety that he was able to murmur into Axel’s ear, “Everything okay? Need another drink?”

Axel smiled, a little thinly. He held up his glass, still half full, and drained it in one go. The general conversation paused, Hayner sounding impressed as he exclaimed, “Look at him go!”

“I could use another,” he eventually answered Roxas, the blond shaking his head with amusement.

It was Olette who jumped up, gesturing for Roxas to stay where he was. “It’s okay, Axel and I can do it. Anyone else want a refill?”

Uneasily, Roxas called after her, “Don’t say anything weird!”

Axel carried his and Roxas’ glasses, while Olette carried out her own and Hayner’s, Pence continuing to nurse a beer. “He seems a little concerned that you’re going to say something bad,” Axel commented with a half-grin.

“Not ‘bad’,” Olette replied, with a wink, “so much as ‘mortifying’. For him, that is. It’s not mortifying in _general.”_

Axel chuckled, following her to the kitchen. He followed her lead, placing their glasses on the worn counter, leaning a hip against it and watching as she quickly checked on something bubbling on the stove. “So, can I assume that he talks about me, then?” he playfully asked, curious as to what the blond might have said. She darted him a furtive look.

“Mmm,” she hummed slyly. “Maybe.” She replaced the lid on the pot, murmuring, “That’s about ready to serve.” She took the bottles of wine from the refrigerator, handing Axel the white while pouring out red for herself and Hayner. “He seems pretty happy with you,” she casually said, as she poured. Glancing over appraisingly, she offered, “He’s pretty serious about you.”

Axel drew a slow breath, careful not to let his expression falter. “…You don’t say?”

Olette’s eyes narrowed slightly. Taking a quick sip from Hayner’s glass, she asked, “What about you?”

“What about me, what?” Axel calmly responded. The girl pursed her lips.

“Oh, no. Don’t play coy with _me,_ Mister.” She took another mouthful from Hayner’s glass, then topped it back up and put the bottle away. Standing at the open refrigerator, she held out a hand for Axel’s bottle, the redhead cautiously stretching out and handing it over. “Roxas is a treasure. If he’s getting serious about you, then he deserves someone serious about _him_ in return.”

“Don’t you think this is exactly the sort of thing he doesn’t want you saying?” Axel mildly suggested. “If he could hear you right now –”

“Are _you_ going to tell him?” Olette quietly challenged, nodding her head when Axel said nothing. “That’s what I thought.” She opened an overhead cupboard. “Help me with these plates.” Axel obediently went over and started passing the plates down from up high, Olette setting them on the counter. “The bowls next,” she said, followed by, “He cares about you.”

“I – care about him,” Axel gruffly replied, moving on to the bowls.

“We’re his family,” the girl stated. “Even if you love him, we’ve loved him longer than you.”

The bowls clattered sharply as Axel jolted, staring with wide eyes at Olette, the two of them gripping a side of the bowls each, gazing at one another.

“If you’re serious about him,” Olette slowly said, “then I’m happy for the two of you.”

Eyeing her, a little bewildered by the grilling he was getting, Axel asked, “Why are you so focused on this? What – makes you think he’s so serious about _me?”_

Olette turned away, tugging the bowls from Axel’s hands. “Help me carry these to the table?” In something of a daze, he did as she asked, joining her in setting up the table in the next room over, a bowl on each plate. “You can leave the drinks here,” she advised, “we’ll be eating in a moment.” She went to let the others know that food was coming, while Axel placed his and Roxas’ glasses down. He felt – like he’d been caught off-guard. He hadn’t even told _Roxas_ about his feelings, and hadn’t intended to, all things considered, and then this girl Axel barely knew was throwing the word ‘love’ around like it was nothing. He could see why Roxas had been tense about the two of them disappearing together – he likely knew about her chatty tendencies. But what exactly had Roxas said to her that the kid was so nervous she might divulge? Was it just that she might be pushy with Axel about their relationship, like she had been, or was it something… else?

Axel was suddenly… utterly consumed with wondering what Roxas might have told Olette.

When the four friends came, it was to find Axel sitting at the table with a faraway expression, the man blinking at their arrival, flicking a glance at Roxas before reaching for his wine and taking a gulp. Roxas looked at him quizzically, then shot a sharp look at Olette, who paid neither of them the slightest bit of attention. “I’ll get the soup!” she announced. “Hayner, you might want to check on the main.”

The couple disappeared into the kitchen, Roxas looking like he either wanted to chase after Olette or drag Axel somewhere quiet to interrogate him about what they might have been talking about, but Pence was still there, taking the chair at the head of the table, asking Axel something he couldn’t immediately translate. He turned to the young man with effort, asking, “Uh, what was that?”

“I said,” Pence repeated patiently, “you totally owe me for telling you about Roxas liking sea-salt candies.”

Axel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. From what I heard, the simple fact that I swooped to your rescue from the dick patrol got me in the good books.”

“Either way, I helped.”

“I’ll be sure to invite you to the wedding,” Axel sarcastically drawled. He then glanced at Roxas, who took his seat beside him, picked up his wine and drank several large mouthfuls, one after another.

“Hey, aren’t you driving?” Pence asked. Roxas hesitated.

“…I guess this is my last one for a while.” He took another gulp. God damn. That Olette girl was a force to be reckoned with. “Actually – fuck it.” Axel blinked as Roxas threw back the rest of his wine, then reached over and took Axel’s straight out of his hand.

“Uh, Roxas…”

“You can drive,” the blond informed him. “I need this.”

“You – _need_ this?” Axel sceptically echoed, Roxas casting a baleful look at him over the rim of his glass.

“Yes. Tonight, I need to get drunk. Do you have a problem with that?”

Eyebrows popping high, Axel held his hands up in surrender. “Nope. Not me. Go for it. I can drive.”

“Ah,” Pence dramatically sighed, _“l’amour.”_

Both the blond and redhead stiffened, Roxas silently drinking up while Axel coughed a little and busied himself straightening his cutlery. He was getting… a bad vibe from tonight. Very bad. He was starting to think he really, really shouldn’t have come. The pleasant, comfortable feeling had dissolved from the moment he’d followed Olette into the kitchen, and he didn’t think it would be back. Instead it was just – extremely awkward, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

The moment was thankfully broken by Hayner and Olette returning, the girl with a tureen of soup that she began serving, everyone’s attention shifting to the commencement of dinner. Conversation of a far safer variety started up, and Axel could, for the moment, breathe more easily. By the time they moved onto the second course, the talk around the table had shifted to work. Axel heard about Olette’s nursing, Hayner’s job at his uncle’s construction site, and Pence’s continuing internship at the Research Committee. When it came to Axel, Hayner asked, “How is it working such long nights?”

The redhead shrugged. “You get used to it. I sleep long days, too, so it all balances out.”

“It must help that you and Roxas have the same routine,” Olette piped up. “It’d be hard if you were working and sleeping at different times, with just the one day off each week.”

“Yeah, probably.” Axel naturally hadn’t given it much thought. _Well, actually, Olette, since I came back in time specifically to interact directly with Roxas, it was never really in any doubt._ That’d go down great.

“Speaking of Roxas and work,” Pence broke in, “I hear that exciting things have been happening in the lab this week, right?”

The blond, halfway through the beer that had followed Axel’s wine, paused with the bottle to his lips, staring for a moment at Pence before lowering it and carefully asking, “How the hell do you know that?” He glanced briefly at Axel, whose blank expression apparently revealed that he hadn’t been the one to leak the news. “That’s classified information, man.”

Slightly surprised, Pence replied, “Really? I heard it from Fuu, she hangs around Seifer and Rai before and after her shifts sometimes. I overhear things when they’re talking, and she was saying just yesterday about how you’d completely changed the nature of the research, that it turns out it’s strong emotions that make the cornerstone –”

“Pence, _shut up!”_ Roxas leaned over his plate and hissed it fiercely, Axel freezing with his fork halfway to his mouth. Around the table, everyone stared. Flustered, Roxas straightened back up, trying to recover his cool. “I mean, like I already _said,_ that’s – seriously classified. Fuu shouldn’t be saying a goddamn thing to _anyone,_ let alone in places where she can be overheard.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s just Seifer,” Pence said, still looking a little stung at having been spoken to so severely. “You know what that guy’s like – he’s so territorial, it’s not like he’s going to sell the info on, he’s too invested in the Research Committee as his domain. And _I’m_ not going to tell anyone.”

“Except for the whole table?” Roxas sharply pointed out, before darting a glance sideways at Axel. The man could have sworn that the look was – nervous. Edgy.

…Why? Why Axel, in particular? He didn’t look thrilled to have Hayner and Olette told this stuff, but he looked distinctly _ruffled_ that Axel was within earshot. The unease in his face and body language was almost palpable, Axel remembering, in a flash, the flicker of it that the kid had harboured when Axel had asked him about the excitement at the guard station. At the time, he’d been perfectly content to accept Roxas’ explanation that it was due to the information not being his to give, but – from what Pence was saying, Roxas was… the _source_ of the upheaval. Just as Axel had feared. And now that the cat was out of the bag, Roxas was anxious about Axel knowing. _Why?_

Did he know the truth of Axel’s presence here?

Had he known all along?

“I’m sorry,” Pence was defensively saying, but Axel barely heard him. All sound had developed a tinny quality, the music, the voices. He felt a great stillness sweep over him, filling him, his stomach and heart dropping away into a void. His hand tightened imperceptibly around his knife.

“So it’s to do with emotions?” Olette mused. She then sent Axel a knowing little glance, hiding a smile behind her hand and said, _“Oh –_ I see.”

No. Oh, no. It couldn’t be.

It was even worse than he’d thought.

As the ice crept through Axel’s veins, Roxas snapped, “Did I not say to shut _up_ about all this? You guys need to stop before I get _fired!”_

“Ah, who’s going to tell?” Hayner dismissively waved a hand. “Your secret’s safe with us, cross our hearts and hope to die.”

“That’s not the _point,”_ Roxas desperately argued.

“What I really want to know,” Axel heard himself lazily interrupt, the kid’s eyes swinging to him anxiously, “is when Hayner and Olette are going to get married.”

There was a flurry of choking as Hayner and Olette both inhaled whatever food or drink was in their mouths at the time. Pence reached over to slap Hayner on the back a few times.

“And what about kids?” Axel added, cementing the subject change in place, their hosts now scrambling to explain where their relationship was at and what may or may not be in store for the future.

The look that Roxas sent him was – grateful. He felt a hand squeeze his knee briefly under the table, the kid thankful that the topic had swerved away from such uncomfortable territory. Axel poured more wine into his glass, to have ready for when he finished his beer, and maintained his presence at the table with a mild smile. Over the course of the evening, he was witty, he was charming, he said and did all the right things, because he was an excellent actor. Every curve of his lips, every laugh, every wink and word was a lie, a brilliantly executed one that nobody, not even Roxas, thought to question. The conversation about Roxas’ research was forgotten, or at the very least allowed to fade, his friends taking mercy on him with what was obviously a touchy subject. Axel was attentively affectionate across the course of the evening, never straying far from Roxas, either rubbing his back or squeezing his shoulder, sometimes brushing his hand, the kid getting steadily drunk on the attention and the fact that Axel kept his wine glass full at every opportunity.

The night carried merrily along, none of them aware that Roxas, happy in their midst, was taking his last meal. He had lied to Axel about the significance of the Cornerstone Theory’s progress, about _his_ significance to its progress. Axel was almost glad; it had given him an extra night and day to spend with the blond, with the revelation hitting him so hard he had gone numb. He could do this without blinking if he was numb. What came later was not an issue right now.

At long last, their time at Hayner and Olette’s drew to a close. It was one in the morning, and everyone was sleepy except for Axel. Even Roxas, despite the fact that it was like midday to him, was now so intoxicated that he had become drowsy. Out in the darkness, Axel led his target to the car. He held the car door open and helped the unsteady blond into his seat, allowing Roxas to pull him close for a drunk, sloppy kiss before going around to the driver’s seat.

“That was fun,” Roxas dopily grinned, Axel agreeably holding up his end of the slurring conversation as he manoeuvred the car away from the brightly lit house and navigated it along the darkened streets. “Where we going?” Roxas asked with a frown at one point, peering out the window in an attempt to discern their location.

“Just back to my place for a second,” Axel smiled blandly. “I need to grab something really quick.”

“Ugh, I hate your place,” the kid mumbled. “S’all dusty and damp and yuck.”

Axel laughed pleasantly.

Upon reaching his apartment, he turned to Roxas, kissed the boy on his forehead, and murmured, “Don’t go anywhere – okay?”

The fact that Roxas didn’t mind being left alone in the car, even inebriated as he was, reminded Axel of how much more confident the kid was since the silver-haired trio had ceased making appearances in his life. Roxas had got a few peaceful last weeks, in the end.

Axel descended the stairs and unlocked his front door, glancing over his shoulder to where the blond obediently and patiently sat waiting for his return. He entered the black apartment, chained the door shut behind him in case Roxas was seized by an inexplicable urge to try and follow after all, and strode through the gloom into the bedroom. He dragged out the suitcase containing his Organisation coat and stuffed it into the same bag he had taken with him to deal with the silver-haired brothers. No blowtorch this time; just a gun, removed from the suitcase’s lining, loaded with the safety on, tucked into the folds of the black coat. He zipped it up, stood and shouldered it, a curiously light burden considering what it would lead him to.

Expressionless, he crossed back through the apartment and let himself out onto the street again, engaging the door’s myriad locks before mounting the stairs two at a time. Roxas greeted him ardently as he entered the car, pulling him close for another kiss, which rapidly transformed into a make-out session as they sat parked on the edge of the road. Axel panted and met his enthusiastic kisses obligingly, tasting the alcohol clinging to his mouth, reminding him of, so long ago, Reno pressing that kiss against him which had tasted like – was it beer? Or something else? It had been sour. This was worse. This was so sour he could have been sick, but perhaps that was less to do with the wine Roxas had drunk and more to do with Axel’s intentions.

Humming happily, Roxas eventually urged, eyes bright and glassy, “Let’s go back to my place.” He tugged Axel’s hand over to his crotch, making him feel the lump that resided there with a giggle. “I’m horny.”

“What kind of man would I be if I refused an invitation like that?” Axel replied, his smile filled with teeth, his backpack in the back seat, a burning brand in his mind.

He started the car up, and returned them both to Roxas’. As he climbed out onto the blond’s driveway, he gazed up at the bungalow. This would be the last place that Roxas lay, before his head found the pillow of his coffin. The slap-happy kid had no idea, wrapping his arms around the back of Axel’s neck as they met at the front of the car, the backpack once again on Axel’s shoulders, Roxas’ legs around his waist, insisting drunkenly, “Carry me!”

Axel kissed him sporadically as they shuffled to the front door, Roxas fishing out his keys and pressing them into his palm, so that the man could unlock the door and stagger in with the kid still wrapped around him. They paused, swaying in place, for Roxas to disarm the alarm system, Axel kicking the door shut with a heel and engaging the deadlock in their wake. Holding the blond tightly, he marched steadily upstairs, Roxas clinging to him all the while, lavishing wet kisses and licks along his neck and collarbone.

As Axel all but dropped him onto the bed, Roxas laughed, the mattress bouncing beneath him. His arms up alongside his head, he watched Axel with unfocused fondness as the man slowly unhooked the bag’s straps from his shoulders and lowered it to the floor.

“Hey.” Roxas caught his attention with the surprisingly lucid-sounding word. Axel looked across at him, holding his gaze.

“…What?”

Roxas squirmed into a more comfortable position, curling a hand loosely over his nose and mouth, studying Axel with smiling eyes. “There’s something I want to tell you,” the kid said, tone suddenly soft and bashful. “It’s about – what we were talking about earlier tonight. When Pence said about the Cornerstone Project and… emotions.”

“You know, for someone just about drowning in wine, you sure are chatty,” Axel commented, then grabbed Roxas by the feet and dragged him sharply to the end of the bed, climbing on top of him and sealing his mouth with a hard kiss. He felt the rumble of the kid’s chuckle vibrate into him.

He thought with this that he had managed to derail the conversation, but when he pulled back to draw a breath, Roxas tried again, frustratingly fixated on the topic: “There’s – something I want to say. Something I _need_ to… I…” His hand lifted to brush clumsily against Axel’s face, touching the tattoo under one green eye, something purer than mere lust in his drunken gaze. “Axel, I –”

Axel rubbed their crotches together, Roxas breaking off with a gasp at the sensation, a moan rising from his throat. Rapidly, the man undid his jeans, tugged them down to his thighs, and, before he could regain his senses, took Roxas’ cock into his mouth and started a frantic pace of sucking and bobbing. Roxas almost yelled; his panting, whimpering gasps replaced whatever conversation was trying to take place. Soon, he was little more than a gibbering mess, a shaking, sweating body with no mind to speak of, Axel buried between his legs, bringing him to a groaning climax and then rolling him over and preparing him for penetration.

Axel fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans. It took only a few strokes to coax his own erection to full life, fingers oily with the same substance lubricating Roxas, who was writhing with anticipation on his stomach, too blitzed from all the wine and pleasure to manage anything more. Axel pushed into him, thrusting slowly at first, then, as Roxas’ body accepted him, with more energy, more force. His grunts filled the room, deep, harsh noises in amongst the high-pitched whining that leaked in an almost incessant stream from the blond’s parted lips. He did as he had wanted to upon waking those hours ago, faced with the prospect of losing Roxas: he fucked him. It was raw and animalistic, each thrust sharp, his mind detached, his feelings nowhere.

When he came, it was with gritted teeth, head lolling back on his neck, eyes rolling into his skull. Beneath him, held nearly immobile in the punishingly tight grip that the intoxicated Roxas had either not noticed or been unable to protest against, the blond was shuddering with his own orgasm, brought forward by the sensation of Axel’s hot semen hitting his insides. Roxas’ mouth was open, like there was a cry he wanted to let out which couldn’t move past his throat. He continued to tremble violently for several moments… then, slowly, his heavy eyelids slid shut, his body relaxing  before going limp in Axel’s hands. He had passed out, the rough pleasure and the alcohol too much to hold out against.

Breathing hard, Axel stared down at him, then lowered him to the bed and slowly pulled out. He turned Roxas onto his back, wiping the hair from his eyes  before dragging his thumbs down the sides of the kid’s sweat-slicked face and cradling it gently between his hands. He swallowed, his eyes drinking the vision in, the beautiful, perfect, foolish Roxas. As his chest began to throb unpleasantly, Axel dropped the kid’s head to the bed. Roxas murmured, features twitching, but otherwise didn’t stir.

Returning his feet to the floor, Axel returned his cock to his underwear and did his jeans back up, bending and unzipping the backpack, yanking out, bit by bit, the black coat of the Organisation. He couldn’t do this without it. He couldn’t do this as Axel Drake; he had to give himself back to Axel of the Organisation, and forget that anyone else had ever existed in his head.

He dragged it on, hands poking through the ends of the sleeves, the hem dropping down to his calves, swishing in place before settling. He tugged the hood up over his hair, and wrapped his fingers around the gun, all hard edges and ominous weight. He thumbed off the safety and held it up, levelled it at the slumbering body on the bed, blinking for a moment before stepped closer. He had to make sure the shot counted. It had to be lethal – anything more than a single shot would catch the neighbours’ attention. At a later date, they might think back to this moment and be able to recall to police that yes, they _had_ heard a loud bang that might have been the killing shot – but they hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Pull the trigger too many times, however, and people started paying attention fast.

He held the muzzle over Roxas’ face, at an angle where it was guaranteed to blast the back off his head. His finger touched the trigger. It touched the trigger, and it started to press. It started to press, but for some reason, Axel couldn’t make it squeeze tight. The finger in question was like someone else’s finger. Axel Drake’s finger, perhaps. He stood there, and stood there, his arm outstretched, the gun steady at first, then starting to waver as a tremor started in his knees, lifted to his chin, spread outward to his arms, his hands.

He whispered brokenly, “Come on!”He commanded himself to pull the trigger. It _had_ to happen, if he didn’t do it, _someone else would._ And Roxas was _his,_ damn it – _his_ love, _his_ intoxication. If he must also be his soul-tearing guilt, then so be it; better that someone actually felt bad about taking a person like Roxas out of the world than it being done by someone who wouldn’t even care that he’d existed.

Still, his trigger finger would not obey, and this time, when he repeated, _“Come on!”_ it was too loud, too distressed, more like a cry. Roxas frowned, shifted, and, just as Axel thought he might continue sleeping on, he opened his eyes.

The blue of Roxas’ eyes in that moment was bewitching, made all the more apparent by the contrasting redness beginning to turn their whites bloodshot. They were bleary at first, unfocused, almost comically so, because the kid was obviously aware that there was something in front of his face but he couldn’t quite will his gaze to zero in on it. All he could see to begin with was Axel, a dark presence over his bed.

“…Axel…?”

Gradually, he managed to shift perspective to look at the object pointed between his eyes, the confusion he experienced brief, replaced quickly by startled fear.

“What…?” He focused past it to Axel again. “Axel, what’s going on? What are you doing?” His voice was small, tight, baffled and afraid. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. He was sobering up in a hurry, but the alcohol was still in his system, his body still floppy from the sex. He was in no state to be begging for his life.

Axel clenched his jaw. “…This is what I’m here for,” he grated, an element of pleading in his own tone. For forgiveness? For understanding? To please, for the love of God, stop looking so vulnerable right now?

“What? Axel, I don’t –” Roxas bit the inside of his lips as Axel jabbed the gun into his forehead.

“Don’t speak!” he ordered, desperately. “This isn’t up for debate. I came here to kill you. That’s all I was ever here for. This is what I have to _do.”_

Roxas gazed up with wide, distraught eyes, then released his lips to quiver out, “Axel, I love you.”

Axel’s face contracted. The pain that roared through him at those words was the pain he had been holding back, the horror and agony that had sprung up the instant Pence had said that it was Roxas who had made the significant change to the cornerstone research. He choked on it, choked on the rush of longing that was forever entwined with it, manifesting as a long, tormented moan. “No, no, no,” he uttered. He shook his head, lifted the gun to dig the butt of it between his eyes before snapping it back towards Roxas as the kid made as if to move. _“No!_ You’re not allowed to – you can’t _say_ that sort of thing… Roxas…!” He drew a breath, folded his other hand around the gun, holding it as steady as he could, pointed directly at the kid’s terrified face. “I’m _sorry.”_

Roxas stared up at him for a stretching moment… then closed his eyes, mouth trembling, and waited. If Axel didn’t pull the trigger now, he was never going to. The second Roxas opened his eyes again, the man would lose all conviction, with nowhere left to turn. This, right now – this was Organisation Axel with the gun in his hand. If even _he_ couldn’t kill Roxas…

The moment stretched, and stretched. The room was silent but for shallow breaths.

When Roxas eventually peeked, wondering what was happening, he found Axel standing in the same place, but… differently. Still in the black coat, still with the hood pulled high, and the gun in his hand, but – shoulders slumped. Arms by his sides, hanging. Head low.

He couldn’t do it. If even Organisation Axel couldn’t kill Roxas, then it had gone beyond his control. It wasn’t just about maintaining the persona anymore; he loved Roxas. Who he was or who he was pretending to be didn’t matter anymore, the dividing line was lost. He only knew that he couldn’t kill the kid.

It was over. He was… finished with this. He was only sorry it had taken a gun at Roxas’ head for him to realise it.

He put the safety back on the gun, and dropped it into the backpack. He heard the breath rush out of Roxas, almost like a sob.

Axel said again, quietly now, everything behind the two words having changed from last time, “I’m sorry.”

There was a rustle of motion, then an assault from the side, the blond slamming his fists into Axel’s arm and stomach, spitting, _“Fuck, fuck you, shit, what the fuck was that!”_ He dragged himself upright, standing on the bed, and sent a punch straight into Axel’s hooded face. As the redhead reeled, Roxas snatched the backpack up from the floor and flung it to the far corner of the room, apparently not trusting Axel to not change his mind. Whirling on the man, who was holding his jaw, opening and shutting it painfully, he bellowed, _“What were you DOING?”_

Axel couldn’t hold his ferocious gaze for more than a second at a time, eyes darting up, then down, then back up again. “…A piss-poor job of being an assassin,” he muttered, at length.

“An assassin? What the _fuck,_ Axel? What the hell kind of crazy _are_ you!?” Roxas swung a fist at Axel’s head, the redhead flinching away, the kid’s knuckles bouncing off his skull. “You fucking _psychopath,_ get out of my house!” This last part was said with feeling, the words burning, the look on his face one of wild anger and sudden loathing. “Go! Get out, get _out!”_ He punched Axel a few more times, herding him towards the stairs, but before he could be forced from the room, the man caught the kid’s fists and squeezed tightly.

“Stop it. You can be as angry as you like, but I’m not leaving.”

Roxas all but snarled. “The fuck you _aren’t!”_ He went to kick Axel, the man shaking him by his wrists, grip going tight enough to hurt. Roxas gasped a little, blinking rapidly, a little of the earlier fear creeping back when he realised that, even with the gun gone, he was not in control here. He had, in fact, used the majority of his adrenaline-fuelled energy to batter Axel in the direction of the doorway, and had little left in reserve.

“I’m… not going to hurt you,” Axel softly said.

“You _are_ hurting me!” Roxas hissed back.

Axel promptly released him, the blond backing up several steps, rubbing his wrists tenderly, glowering all the while. A quick glance around the room reinforced the knowledge he already had that there was no escape from the top floor of the bungalow, except for maybe through the window. The gun was still in the bag in the corner, but Axel was hoping that it wouldn’t occur to the kid to try for deadly force when he wasn’t in any direct danger.

Holding his hands up, gesturing for peace, Axel slowly repeated, “I’m not going to hurt you, Roxas.”

“What the _fuck_ is going on? You _are_ a psychopath, aren’t you?” the kid demanded, before giving a small, strangled laugh. “I sure know how to pick ’em, huh?”

“I’m… I’m not a psychopath. I’m an assassin,” Axel said again, for all the good it did him. Roxas immediately scoffed, looking more distressed with every passing exchange.

“Oh, well, of _course_ you’re an assassin. I mean, why _else_ would you hold a gun to my head and tell me you have to kill me?” He went abruptly quiet, pressing a hand to his head, the weight of what had happened apparently only just now hitting him. He swayed a little, then sat on the edge of the bed. After a pause, he asked numbly, “What now? What are you going to do?”

It was obvious he thought that Axel was unhinged. Who could blame him? He expected this to go very badly, for Axel to turn out to be some kind of crazy, violent, delusional madman who would keep him chained to the bed, rape him for several days, then dismember him and bury him in his own backyard.

Axel lowered his hood, Roxas looking at his bared face and hair miserably, like this was the Axel he’d thought he knew, gone forever. “I’m going to prove it to you,” the redhead said.

Eyebrows uncertainly rising, Roxas asked, as if he hadn’t heard correctly the first time, “What?”

“I really am an assassin. I’m a member of a shadow group called the Organisation. We employ –” he hesitated, “– a certain technology that allows us to reach targets in far-off places, and we kill them for a fee. I am part of the Organisation. I was sent here to kill you.”

Even as he said it, he could see that Roxas wasn’t buying his story. It was too far-fetched for the kid to grasp. The little hint of contempt that crossed his features cut Axel to the bone.

“You don’t say,” the blond answered, unable to keep the faintest shadow of a sneer from his voice. “So why haven’t you killed me, then? I’ve been right in front of you all this time. _Months.”_ He shakily added,“You _saved_ me from the silver-haired guys.”

“I had instructions to wait until you had caused a significant advance in the Cornerstone Project. I couldn’t do anything to you until then.”

“Except for fuck me,” he bitterly supposed. Something sickening occurred to him. He asked, “Are you with ShinRa?”

“No!” Axel shook his head firmly. He could see how that idea would be distressing. “No, I’m… I’m not with ShinRa.”

 “Then why do you care if I made the advance?” the blond challenged. When Axel said nothing, Roxas sighed. _“Thanks a lot, Pence,”_ he muttered. Then, meeting Axel’s gaze stonily, he asked, “So why am I not dead? Why stop, when you were right about to do it?”

Axel lowered his gaze, hands twitching slightly by his sides. “…You know why.”

“Say it,” Roxas snapped. “I want an explanation. I don’t know _what_ the hell you’re thinking.”

The man looked off to the side, inhaled slowly, then met Roxas’ gaze directly. Without a hint of contrivance, he said, “You told me you love me. Well, I love you, too. I loved you first. I… can’t hurt you. I can’t do it. You’re more important than – anything at all. To me.” They were both silent. When it seemed that Roxas wasn’t going to be coming up with a response any time soon to his confession, Axel said, “So, I’ll prove it to you. That I’m part of the Organisation.”

Harshly, Roxas wondered, “And why should I even care? It doesn’t matter. Everything is fucked now.”

Chest aching, Axel shook his head. “It’s more than that. This isn’t just about you and me, Roxas. If I don’t kill you, someone else will.” The blond’s head had never snapped up so fast, his eyes had never been so round. “We have to go into hiding.”

“Are you out of your _mind?”_

“…Please. Just let me show you the truth. Let me prove it to you.”

Roxas eyed him suspiciously, unwilling to trust a single thing the man said. Axel had broken all ties of trust in so brief an amount of time. However, apparently seeing few options, Roxas eventually, resentfully asked, “…How?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading :)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Roxas’ shoulders stiffened as Axel draped his black Organisation coat around them, the air at two in the morning chilly, even this close to summer. He made sure not to touch the blond as he did it, not wanting to startle or creep him out. Things were… twisted enough without him feeling more unsafe. This whole ‘my boyfriend is a delusional psycho’ slant on their relationship probably cast a new light on how he’d behaved when Roxas first woke him up, of which Axel was uncomfortably aware. Roxas was likely thinking about it right now, wishing he’d just kicked the redhead out there and then. Not that it would have ultimately changed anything.

He had managed to get the blond to cautiously agree to come with him to his apartment, although he was pretty sure the only reason Roxas was playing along was because he suspected that Axel would freak out if he didn’t. It was, as the kid had said, all fucked. Axel had never planned for this. He had never expected it to last beyond the moment of his gun at Roxas’ head. He was in all-new territory here, flying blind, just hoping he could find a way to salvage… _something._ Anything.

The car ride, taken in his rental rather than Roxas’ little yellow car, was pin-drop silent. Roxas had his arms wrapped around himself, head leaning against the window, watching the city flash by. Axel couldn’t help but constantly glance over at him, eyes drawn helplessly, inevitably back to the blond. He ached at the sight of Roxas’ arms folded so protectively across his body, the kid obviously feeling exposed and ill at ease. To think, it had only been a few hours ago that things had been totally fine and normal, and…

No. That was wrong, wasn’t it? Things had never reallybeen ‘fine and normal’, not as long as Axel was secretly plotting to kill him.

It occurred to him that right now, like this, was the first time he was actually being honest with Roxas. The few instances of genuineness that had filtered through the bullshit didn’t count; something based on a web of lies like it had been couldn’t ever be considered real. _This_ was real – Roxas not looking at him, not speaking. Scared, angry.

…Shit. This wasn’t going to work out, was it? Axel couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so hopelessly out of luck.

But, first things first: he had to show Roxas that he wasn’t out of his mind.

They pulled up outside of Axel’s apartment some twenty minutes later. As he shut the engine off, he noticed Roxas’ tension rising. He looked over at Axel, staring at him through the gloom, then slowly opened his door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He didn’t try to run; that was the first thing that had gone right all evening. Axel didn’t think he could successfully convince the kid that he had no ill intentions towards him while chasing him down the street. Perhaps it was just that Roxas had no illusions about his ability to get away, as the night’s alcohol had left him disoriented, and the rough sex had left him tender. Axel felt a guilty pang at the sight of the slight limp in the blond’s step, but was grateful for small mercies. If that’s all that was keeping Roxas nearby, then… he was glad about it. Selfishly, wickedly glad.

“C’mon,” he mumbled, gesturing for Roxas to descend the stairs first. “Down this way.”

Head high, expression steely, Roxas did as he was told, holding Axel’s coat close around him as he carefully took each step downward. The man shadowed him, drew out his keys, reaching past the blond to unlock the door, Roxas noticing, for the first time, just how many locks there were.

He opened it up, and Roxas stepped stiffly inward. Axel followed, flicking on the light switch, watery illumination filling the dank living space. Roxas flinched a little at the sound of the door closing, the locks re-engaging, but otherwise remained composed. Axel felt a little rush of admiration flicker unbidden through him. The kid knew how to keep his cool. He always had, more or less.

When he did nothing, Roxas eventually turned his head to look back at him. Observing the wretched caring on Axel’s face, he dropped his gaze. “Well?” he asked, voice low. “What now?”

Exhaling slowly, Axel scratched the back of his head a little, not quite knowing exactly how to proceed. “I guess… I should start by telling you the whole truth.” When Roxas simply looked at him, expression shuttered, Axel mustered his courage and took the plunge. “I’m not just as assassin,” he unenthusiastically said, “I’m also from the future – the year twenty-fifty-five.” As an aside to himself, he muttered, “God, that sounds stupid said out loud.”

Predictably incredulous, Roxas finally turned to face him, a disbelieving half-smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re – from the future.” It wasn’t really a question; more a ridiculing echo of Axel’s words, scorn held shiveringly in check only by the fact that he couldn’t be sure how the redhead would respond to having his fantasies directly challenged.

Axel fell back on his latest catchcry: “I can prove it.”

Roxas retreated into the safety of silent scepticism. Swallowing, Axel gestured for him to sit on the couch. The blond didn’t much look like he wanted to, but he obeyed, waiting warily for whatever ‘proof’ Axel could provide showing that he was from another time.

“I didn’t bring much with me,” he explained, tiredly aware that the kid officially believed him to be out of his fucking mind, “but there’s two things I can show you. I think they’re pretty solid, but you might prefer to not accept them. I guess it’s up to you. They don’t exactly stamp your hand for re-entry when it comes to time travel.”

The first thing he did was go to the bedroom and bring back his laptop. He placed it on the coffee table in front of Roxas and bobbed down, one hand on the table, the other on the arm of the couch. “Now, what you see before you is obviously a very ordinary laptop. Except it isn’t, since this is a model that won’t be invented for another eighteen years. It’s top of the range. Nobody outside of my own timeline has seen it before. You’re looking at tech nearly twenty years advanced from yours.”

Roxas sent him a long, almost pitying look. Axel gestured for him to open the laptop up, the kid half-heartedly doing so, fingers accidentally brushing the power button, the computer starting up with just that merest touch. It was fast, silent, and high-tech, way beyond anything Roxas had seen before. The blond, however, remained unconvinced. “It’s just – fancy,” he said, as if this was a distasteful detail. “It’s expensive enough that you think I’ve never seen one before. I’m not an idiot, Axel. You’re trying to trick me.”

“You’re a fucking biophysics graduate, Roxas,” the man pointed out. “I think it’s pretty obvious you’re not an idiot – and you’ve seen your fair share of high-tech computers.”

“Yeah, but not laptops,” the kid stubbornly argued. “This is probably one of those super-fast gaming ones. They always look sleeker and more advanced than regular computers.”

Frustrated, Axel ran a hand through his hair. “All right. Fine. Leaving that aside for the moment,” he sighed, “there’s one other thing that might convince you.”

“What happens if it doesn’t?” Roxas softly asked.

Axel considered the question for a long moment, then, not knowing the answer, dully said, “Let’s just go to the bedroom, and I’ll show you what it is.”

Roxas tensed up. Not exactly relaxed to begin with, he had nevertheless lost that edge of immediate fear. Now, however, it slammed back with full force, the kid looking flat-out spooked. “No. You bring it _here.”_

“It’s not a good idea to move this stuff around,” Axel wearily said. He stood, gazing down at the blond, pleading after a moment, “Come on, Roxas. We’ve been together all those times… I’ve never hurt you before. Why would I start now?”

“Why _did_ you start now?” Roxas’ voice shook slightly, tone accusing. “How am I supposed to know the way your mind works? If I follow you in there, what’s going to happen to me?”

“Nothing. Christ – nothing at all.” Axel rubbed his hands over his face, crouching back down again. Filled with remorse, he grated, “I’m sorry, I’m so _sorry_ for what I did back at your place. I should never have brought the gun out. I should have –” He dropped his head. “I should have realised I couldn’t hurt you. The way I feel about you, it’s – it’s not something you can just… ignore and make go away.” Meeting Roxas’ gaze beseechingly, he said, “I thought I was doing my _job,_ andI – I _was,_ but somewhere along the way, it became more than that. I promise you, I’m not insane. The only way I can get you to begin to _think_ about trusting me is to get you to _believe_ me. Please, Roxas. _Please._ Let me prove myself before you decide that I’m – irredeemable.”

Suspiciously, Roxas eyed him, hesitant to buy into the mournful act – but, God help him, Axel was pouring every ounce of sincerity that had ever resided in his sinful body into this. And thankfully, it seemed that that was, at least for the moment, enough to win the blond over, to coax him into allowing this one last attempt before he passed judgment. He inclined his head curtly and stood. He didn’t believe for a second that Axel was an assassin from the future – but he was at least willing to humour the man. Axel appreciated that. Maybe it was just that Roxas didn’t feel he had much choice in the matter, but Axel hoped it was something more than that, hoped that, even after having held a gun to his head, Roxas was willing to defer to the version of Axel he had known the last three months. And that in turn gave the man the slightest fragment of hope that maybe… he wasn’t a lost cause just yet.

He led the way into the bedroom, Roxas several paces behind, but following. When Axel approached the bed, the blond stopped a step past the doorway and warily waited.

Axel bent down on one knee and drew out his suitcase, unzipping it and flapping it open. Roxas, reasonably reassured that he wasn’t going to be grabbed and thrown to the bed, shifted a little closer, maintaining distance but giving himself a better viewpoint to watch what the man was doing. Axel reached in, felt around, and after a moment triggered the false bottom. The back of the suitcase popped forward, revealing the hidden space beyond. The first layer behind it was a row of spare knives, in case he had to arm himself while leaving the ones already in the apartment in place. Roxas’ eyes widened at the sight of them, Axel heaving them carelessly onto the bed.

“Jesus, Axel…” He seemed shaken. The blades were of a variety of shapes and sizes, all sharpened and ready for use, gleaming in the dull light.

“Don’t be so impressed. They’re not what I wanted to show you.”

Axel reached further back, and this time took hold of the long, slender case that matched its twin back in his own time. He input the unlocking code and opened it up. Within lay the innumerable wires, the silver discs attached along them. The laptop may have fallen short, but he might manage to prove himself yet. He turned, carefully offering it to Roxas. The blond looked momentarily puzzled, then guarded.

Without touching it, he asked, “What is that?”

“It’s a time machine.”

Arching a brow, Roxas shot him a withering look. Then, when he noticed that Axel was not, in fact, being facetious… he stepped a little closer and peered dubiously at the case. “How is this a time machine, exactly?”

“Well. I was joking, a little bit.” Axel swivelled towards him and pulled out a little clump of the wires, one with a disc attached. “I’m no expert on the finer details of it – like, why the hell it works, for example – but, uh, these wires carry electricity, and these round silver bits act as foci for that electricity, and –”

“Wires and silver circles? Electricity? This is how we time travel – in the future, obviously.” Roxas was unimpressed. He’d been caught more off guard by the knives.

“Not ‘we’. It’s not like people are zipping off to ancient Greece for a vacation,” Axel responded, a little annoyed despite himself. Would it kill the kid to exercise a little imagination? “Just the Organisation. It poured a fortune into the research, which was so secretive I don’t even know who it was who came up with it. I guess so none of us shady operatives can go back and take it for ourselves.”

“Oh, I can understand that. Gotta cover your bases, keep the peons in line,” Roxas drawled, still not taking him seriously. Axel sent him a patient look, then pulled the small, iridescent tube of Mako out from under the wires and extended it to him.

“Well, how does this strike you, then? Open it up. Don’t touch,” he hastened to warn. “Do _not_ touch. Just – take a whiff.”

Roxas looked tempted to refuse, like maybe it was a gel-based chloroform or something. Axel balanced the case on his knee and unscrewed the cap, inhaling audibly over the tube, which he swished under his nose. Even doing it quickly like that had him holding back the overwhelming urge to start choking. His eyes watered, the chemical scent remarkably powerful when contained like this. He again held it out, Roxas reluctantly taking the tube from him this time, his unease persisting even after the demonstration. He did as Axel had, passing it under his nose while sniffing cautiously, then recoiled with the speed of a snake. Coughing loudly, he covered the lower half of his face with his sleeve, thrusting the tube back at Axel, who couldn’t help but give a crooked smile at his reaction.

 _“Urgh,_ what _is_ that?” Roxas demanded, his nose starting to run, eyes, like Axel’s, watering sharply, perhaps a little more since he hadn’t anticipated _quite_ the potency he’d experienced and taken a deeper breath of it.

“Oh, this? It’s uncondensed Mako.”

Now this – this caught Roxas’ attention. Still coughing, probably feeling a little suffocated, he echoed, shrill with horror, _“Mako?_ Did you just give me _Mako?”_

“Uncondensed,” Axel helpfully reiterated, then tossed a careless hand. “Relax. It won’t kill you, as long as it doesn’t make contact with your skin. Of course, I don’t recommend huffing the stuff on a regular basis – but now you know that it really _is_ Mako, right? If I’d just _told_ you, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“I still don’t think I believe you!” Roxas wheezed. “Only now, I’m wondering if I’ll develop a brain tumour in the next five years – from whatever that shit is.”

“It’s Mako,” Axel told him. “Think about it, Roxas. Use that scientific mind of yours and tell me what happens when Mako is used to generate mass-produced electricity.”

The kid didn’t really want to, but he obliged, wondering where this was going. “It starts with isolated bursts of energy at particular locations,” he said, after thinking about it for a few eye-watering seconds, “then the Mako acts as a catalyst, conducting it at high speeds to a broader network of catalysts, which in turn conduct it further – the initial energy is spread a hundred times broader than its potential…” He fell abruptly silent.

Axel watched him closely. _Come on… get there… connect the dots…_

“…You said that it’s uncondensed?” Roxas eventually asked, a distant look forming in his eyes. “Then – it’s wildly unstable. It’s…”

Axel gave a thin smile. “It’s capable of a thousand times what the commercial stuff can do.”

“But – that’s – insane!” Roxas spluttered for a moment, then went on, “It’s _impossible._ Things powered by uncondensed Mako _explode,_ Axel. They nearly discarded it as a potential energy source before they figured out how to condense it. Why would _anyone…?”_

“It… tears reality apart, Roxas.” There was a breathlessness to Axel now, an intensity. Roxas understanding it all was within _reach,_ the kid was figuring it out, and as fantastic as it still seemed to him, his disbelief couldn’t help but waver. “It all has to be so carefully controlled, that’s what the wires and discs are for, keeping it _contained,_ all that energy ripping back and forth, mounting and mounting… until…”

Roxas was positively dumbfounded. “Until… what, time? Itself?”

Axel’s eyes were alight. “It becomes a passageway. A black corridor that takes you anywhere you concentrate on through the timeline.”

“…The – timeline…” The blond looked dazed. He was lost in thought, running mental simulations with this new information, trying to wrap his head around the concept. Gradually, his chin lifted, eyes finding Axel with shimmering doubt… but this time, the doubt was in himself, worry that he was actually _listening_ to this, actually _considering_ it. “…This seriously – can’t be real,” he dubiously insisted. “I mean, come on, right?” He tried for a laugh, but it was feeble, his gaze returning to the mass of wires in the case in Axel’s hands. Axel didn’t try to push the point, simply let it all ferment in Roxas’ brain, the blond giving one more lame little huff of laughter before his lips pressed together. After a beat, his brow creased, head shaking. “No,” he said, more firmly than he seemed to feel.

“It’s the truth,” Axel maintained. “You know that this is theoretically possible.”

 _“Theoretically_ possible, _maybe,”_ Roxas stressed, dragging a hand through his hair and starting to pace, a hand on one hip. “But not _practically,_ I mean, it’s just…” He sent Axel an agitated look, then shook his head again, more decisively. “No – _no,_ I can’t believe this. Because if I believe _this,_ then I have to accept that fucking story you have about being _from the future,_ and – and having come back to kill me?” The kid’s bewilderment knew no bounds. “Are you seeing what I’m getting at here?” he demanded.

“It’s my job,” Axel told him, words heavy. With a grimace, he closed the black case, the locks snapping back into place, the combination display automatically scrambling then going dark. He replaced it carefully into the suitcase and lifted himself up onto the edge of the bed. Elbows on knees, fingertips tapping nervously together, he said, without looking at the blond, “This is – what I do. I use that uncondensed Mako to travel back and forth between my time and various points in the past, and I… I kill people for money.” Swallowing, tasting the bitterness of his life’s choices catching up with him, he added in a mutter, “I’m sorry.”

Roxas let out an impatient sound, returning to his pacing. For a little while, he didn’t speak, aggravation plain on his face, eyes darting as he sifted through it all, trying to come to some sort of sane conclusion. Poor guy didn’t want to accept that that just wasn’t going to happen.

“Okay,” he said at last, sounding strained, “let’s say I believe you about the… the _potential_ for your version of time travel being… practically viable.” Axel’s head picked up, eyes wide. Roxas glared back, voice tight. “That still doesn’t explain away the rest of this mess. Who would want to kill _me?_ You really want me to believe that someone out there wants me dead badly enough that they’d – send you back through _time_ to take me out?”

Axel hesitated. “I don’t know why. And – I don’t know who, either. Those are the sorts of details they don’t give us. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s someone who, twenty years from now, wished they could’ve taken credit for your contribution to the Cornerstone Project.”

Roxas paced a few steps more, then stopped sharply and leaned against the wall, covering his face with his hands. He looked like he was trying to hold his head together, lest the hemispheres of his brain fly off in different directions from the force of his confusion. Axel wondered if he was also starting to feel a little hung-over.

“So, if that’s the case,” Roxas eventually sighed, hands sliding down to his sides, looking exhausted by the conversation, the situation, his physical fatigue, “why didn’t you do it to me? You make it sound like you’ve – killed people before.” He appeared nauseated, but evidently had to hear it for himself. “So, why not me? Why stop now?”

Eyebrows coming together, Axel turned his head to look at the kid. “…I told you, didn’t I? I fell in love with you. And you…” He hunched his shoulders, hands gripping tightly together, staring hard at them. “You’d decided you loved me, before all this.”

Looking torn between dread and disgust, the blond asked, “…So, because you love me, I get to live? What about the ones you didn’t love?”

Axel’s knuckles whitened. “I killed them.”

Roxas swallowed thickly. Again, weakly now, he murmured, “Jesus, Axel.” He tilted his head back, blinking up at the naked bulb attached to the water-damaged ceiling. For a while, neither of them spoke, Roxas thinking it over while Axel gave him the space to do so. At length, the kid dully asked, “Do you think – it might have been those silver-haired guys? Who want me dead in the future?”

Axel, his knuckles to his lips, lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I haven’t seen them around lately.”

Uncertain as to what the kid’s response would be, Axel uneasily rubbed his neck, answering, “Yeah, about that. I, uh, tracked them down and… motivated them to leave you alone.”

Roxas frowned. “Wait, _you?_ But you told me…” Before he was even halfway through the sentence, he trailed off, expression flattening. “Oh. You were lying. There is no ‘friend with contacts’, is there?”

“I hacked ShinRa’s personnel files and tracked them down.”

Well, that woke the kid up a bit. “You? Hacked _ShinRa?_ With its world famous security and fifteen year jailing threat for espionage?”

“I’m telling you,” Axel tiredly said, “my computer is twenty years better than the most cutting-edge technology ShinRa can boast. It was no big thing. I didn’t even have to do anything, I just got the program running.” As the flabbergasted blond rethought his stance on the legitimacy of the laptop as evidence of his future-born status, Axel went on, “Look, Roxas – we could take all night debating this, with me trying to convince you, but I haven’t got anything left to say or show you that would work in my favour. You know it all now. And that means you have to decide whether you think I’m crazy… or if you believe me now.”

Roxas’ expression dimmed. His gaze was scrutinising, mouth and brows downturned. At length, he asked, “…And what if I do? Believe you, that is.”

Axel held his gaze, hardly daring to hope. “If you do, then you know you don’t need to be afraid of me – right?”

“You held a _gun_ to my head, Axel,” the blond icily reminded him. “Do you think I could _ever_ feel safe with you again?”

Dread filling him, Axel twisted towards the blond, climbing onto his knees on the sagging bed. “No, no, don’t say that,” he quietly begged. “You need to understand, I only went that far because I thought I _had_ to, because I’ve never questioned a contract before yours, because it’s all I _know_ – but now that I’ve failed, now that I know I can’tgo through with it, I can’t go back. I’m cast adrift, Roxas, there’s nowhere left for me now that I can’t return to my own time. It’s worth it if it means you live, but – _please,_ please don’t reject me. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

“And what if I hadn’t woken up?” Roxas barked. “You only hesitated when I told you I _loved_ you. What if I hadn’t?”

“If I had been going to do it, I _would_ have,” Axel desperately said. “Whether or not you woke up wouldn’t have changed anything. I knew what I was _supposed_ to do, but I couldn’t do it – and _then_ you woke up. And then…” He shook his head, searching for words, before eventually, helplessly gulping and repeating, “I _love_ you. I could never hurt you. I just didn’t know it until…”

“Until you’d got me drunk, fucked me, then tried to shoot me and chickened out?”

Axel flinched at Roxas’ dispassionate delivery, feeling like scum. As he should. “I’m sor-”

 _“Don’t.”_ Roxas cut him off, a hand slicing up between them, looking irritated. “I don’t – want to hear it. Not again. You can be as sorry as you like, but it doesn’t _change_ anything, Axel.”

Regret pulsing through every part of his being, Axel forced himself to ask, the words dragging out of him as if from the bottom of a pit, “You don’t love me anymore, do you?”

For a silent minute, Roxas didn’t respond. He simply stood there, the blue eyes that had been so warm of late now cold. It was only now that Axel knew _why_ they’d been so warm. And he’d screwed everything up.

Eventually, Roxas told him, “That’s the most pathetic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Axel’s stomach dropped, his features contracting painfully. He couldn’t hold the blond’s gaze, making Roxas click his tongue impatiently. “Do you know why I was able to make the difference to the Cornerstone Project’s research, Axel?”

Reluctantly, the man looked up, and unexpectedly found that, rather than angry, the kid appeared… vexed.

“I was holding on to one of those damned rocks,” Roxas said, “and I thought of you. And the fucking thing lit up like a Christmas tree. ShinRa had the right idea. Intense emotion purifies cornerstone, but I don’t think negative ones like fear make the cut. It has to be something good. For me, it was my feelings for you that made it happen. That was when I knew. About you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, amended, “Not _about_ you, obviously, since I had noidea about the _real_ you, but – about how I felt for you. And then I told Olette, and she kept bugging me to tell you…” He sighed, an annoyed, unhappy sound. “But our entire time together, you were planning to killme?” His expression twisted, the reality of it hitting him now that he’d said it out loud. “Give me a moment to – process that.”

Axel nodded mutely, while Roxas took a few deep, steadying breaths.

“Okay,” he said, sounding a little fainter, but still determined to get out whatever was on his mind, “so, you almost killing me aside – a sentence I never thought I’d utter –” He glared at Axel, expression strained, frustration evident. “I – still – care about you. I can’t – I don’t know how to just switch it off. I’d need time. And distance, and…”

Blinking, Axel rasped, mouth suddenly dry, “Wha, wait, what – what are you saying?”

“I still love you, you fucking jackass.”

If the world had stopped moving, Axel would have been less stunned than he was right now. He started to tremble. Roxas, seeing the impact his words had had on the man, looked off to the side, still angry for very obvious, very understandable reasons, but – but he didn’t hate Axel yet. He in fact still _loved_ him.

Oh, Christ. Roxas _loved_ him.

“So.” Roxas sounded exhausted, like every ounce of energy had just about been used up. Now that he believed Axel – somehow, against all odds – he no longer had to remain in that permanent state of readiness to fight or flee, and the loss of that tension was taking its toll. “As I’ve asked a few times already – what now? The time-travelling assassin fails to kill the guy he decides he’s in love with – and then what happens?” He still wasn’t looking at Axel, remaining against the wall, arms lowered but folded over his thighs, defensive, tired.

Slowly, cautiously, so as not to frighten the kid, Axel climbed off the bed. Roxas heard the creak of springs, narrow eyes darting over to him, but didn’t shrink as the man tentatively approached. He was wary, no doubt about it – but waiting to see what was coming.

As Axel reached him, he hesitantly took hold of Roxas’ wrists, then, when the kid didn’t try to jerk away, unfolded them. Roxas allowed it, unresisting, his gaze never wavering from Axel’s face. Carefully, the man slid their hands together. Within his own, Roxas’ were limp – but he didn’t snatch them back. That was good. That was – progress.

“I’m going to forgive you,” the kid warned him.

Axel smiled faintly. “I know. You shouldn’t.” The expression faded, one hand rising to tenderly brush a spike of blond away from blue eyes. “But there’s something you should know.” Roxas regarded suspiciously, as the fingers that had touched his hair trailed falteringly down to his jaw. “I didn’t choose to come here,” Axel quietly said. “I didn’t choose the contract on your life, it was given to me. But I did choose to toss it out. This is – you are – my choice. You’re the first choice I’ve made for myself in… a very long time.”

Roxas’ expression shifted, easing a little from its stern state. Axel’s words had affected him, however much he didn’t want them to. It was true, then, that he still cared; he wouldn’t feel moved by such a statement if he didn’t. Moving very slowly, Axel leaned towards him, then, when Roxas didn’t turn away, kissed him, very gently. Once again, Roxas didn’t respond… but neither did he reject the gesture. Axel could be content with that. It was the least of what he deserved.

When he drew back, Roxas said, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

It took Axel a moment to remember what the question was, before he recalled the ‘what now?’ that remained ever-present in the blond’s mind. Reluctantly, he straightened, letting Roxas’ hands slide from his grip. “The Organisation will send someone when they discover that I haven’t fulfilled my obligations.”

Brow creasing, Roxas wondered, “But how could they know? This is all happening in the past as far as they’re concerned, isn’t it? So they wouldn’t find out until like twenty years from now.”

Axel shook his head. “Throughout the timeline, for around a century, they’ve seeded agencies that do the Organisation’s bidding. Usually it’s administrative support – they got me the interview with Ansem, for example – but they’re also given details of the contract. They’re in charge of erasing signs of me from the timeline once I’m done, and cleaning up any messes I might have made in the meantime. That includes any loose ends… and in your case, a still-living target. If I don’t check in with them by the time the deadline passes, they’ll come looking.”

Roxas was looking sicker by the minute. His mouth worked silently for a few seconds, before he managed, “So, what do we do?”

This next part wasn’t going to be easy. Axel searched for the right words to try and cushion the blow, but in the end just had to come out and say it: “We have to run. Escape the Organisation’s influence. That means…” He hesitated. “Going further back than they venture.”

Roxas didn’t react, staring blankly. Eventually, he asked, “And how far back is that?”

“…About a hundred and fifty years, to be safe,” Axel told him, then nervously waited for the explosion. Surprisingly, it didn’t come. Instead, Roxas merely shut his eyes, letting this sink in.

After a few minutes, he asked, voice husky, “What about my friends? My family? My job? I can’t just… _leave_ it all.”

Axel told him helplessly, “If you don’t, you’ll die.”

Roxas rubbed the fingers and thumb of one hand over his eyes. “…This is insane, Axel.”

The man lowered his head. “I know.”

He saw the slightest quiver of Roxas’ mouth beneath his hand. “How did this happen? At the start of tonight, everything was great.”

Axel regarded him sadly, then said, “No. It wasn’t. It was this, just waiting to happen. It’s always been this, waiting to happen.”

The blond out a bitter sound. “You’ve ruined my _life,_ you son of a bitch. _”_

Axel sighed. “I know. But I’m also doing everything I can to save it. If anyone else had been sent… you’d already be dead.”

Roxas whipped his hand down, glowering through watery eyes at the man. The expression lasted only a short period before collapsing, however, sorrowful, scared, and just plain baffled by the speed with which everything had changed. Axel opened his arms a little, indicating for Roxas to come to him. His heart in his throat, he wasn’t sure if the kid was going to, if the anger that he had towards Axel, for the lies and just for _all_ of it, would prove too strong.

But, really, Axel was all Roxas had left now.

The blond moved slowly towards him, sinking against his body, the man’s arms winding around him, holding tightly. In his ear, Axel swore, “I will never, ever hurt you. Without the contract, I have no reason to put a gun anywhere near you. I never did it out of wanting to.”

“What if you change your mind, somewhere along the road?” Roxas dimly asked. “How can I trust you to not just get bored one day and decide you’d rather go back to your assassin’s life instead of living a hundred and fifty _fucking_ years in the past?”

Axel gave him a slight squeeze. “The corridors are one-way. There’s no going back without another case of wires and Mako, and the one set I have is the one that’s going to get us out of here.” He kissed the side of Roxas’ head, holding him tighter. “You’ll be safe with me,” he murmured. “I promise you that. I’ll take care of you.”

Face still hidden, Roxas faintly snorted and gave the muffled reply, “I can take care of myself.”

A smile twitched past Axel’s lips. “You’re right. My mistake.” He rested his chin on the kid’s shoulder, saying wistfully, “In that case, maybe you can take care of me.”

They stood there for a while, neither man moving, the highly strung energy of the night leaking slowly from the room.

At length, Axel drew back, stroking a thumb down Roxas’ face. “We need to prepare.”

Alarm touched Roxas’ features. “Wh-what? Already? We – just like that, we’re leaving?”

Axel shook his head. “Not quite. We should sleep first. It takes concentration to get through to the other side of the corridors, and I have things to do before we go. Also, we’ll need some clothes, and any objects we could sell that won’t be ahead of the timeline we’re entering into. But – soon.” Roxas looked like he wanted to argue, Axel heading off his protests, telling him, as gently as he could, “The sooner we leave, the safer we are. Now that the research advance has been made, it won’t be long before that becomes public knowledge – and then the agency will find out. They know what I’m here for. Besides…”

“Besides what?” Roxas asked, when Axel faltered. The man grimaced.

“Your friends. If you stay near them, or visit them and say anything out of the ordinary, even in the way of a particularly heartfelt good-bye… the agency will likely find out. They might question your friends. They might follow them.”

Looking half-panicked, Roxas demanded, _“What?_ Axel, are they going to be in danger?”

Hurrying to pacify him, Axel shook his head swiftly, bending and taking the kid’s face in his hands. _“No._ Not if the last thing they knew was that we went back to your place and then… disappeared.”

This seemed to reassure him a little, until he realised that that meant he likely wasn’t ever going to see them again. “So – I can’t even say good-bye?” Roxas looked almost tearful. He was holding it in, but only barely. When Axel opened his mouth, the blond fiercely said, “If you apologise again, I’m going to kick you.”

Axel closed his mouth.

He smoothed Roxas’ hair until the blond had taken a few deep breaths and calmed himself, then kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

“Come on. Let’s get some rest.”

.o.O.o.

When Axel woke up, and Roxas was still in his bed beside him, his relief could not have been greater. He half expected the kid to be gone, to have snuck out when he was unconscious, or perhaps called the police and holed up in the bathroom until they kicked the door down. But Roxas was still there, on the musty sheets, the Organisation coat wrapped around him, expression, for the moment, innocently peaceful.

Telling him his life as he knew it was over was one of the hardest things Axel had ever done, even as his happiness at the blond not having completely spurned him swamped him. The sight of him lying there, sleeping on as the sunrise touched the sprawling city, made Axel’s heart swell with yearning. Just like Roxas, Axel was giving up everything he knew to keep him safe, although their circumstances were different. Roxas, for example, was losing much; Axel, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine a greater gain. Sure, he would miss the money, but he had lost his taste for the kill. He couldn’t have gone back to that life. He would have to find his adrenaline fix in more charitable pursuits. Perhaps, wherever they ended up, he could be a firefighter. Or a cop. Or a walking irony. Something like that.

Turning onto his back, carefully so as not to disturb the blond, Axel gazed at the ceiling and sleepily scratched his chest, thinking through the different facets of the job so far. He should have known that it was never going to end normally, considering how abnormally it had started out. The way that Roxas’ tracks had been practically scrubbed right from the beginning had just been the tip of the iceberg. It was curious, though, that they had been. He hadn’t thought about that in a while, but it was a mystery that had never been solved. In the future, Roxas Black had been about as non-existent as a person could be when they still had their picture in a medical text.

Now that he was thinking about it, though, it bugged him a little. It was the one thing he’d never got an answer to. He knew everything else, like who had been attacking Roxas, and how the kid was so significant to the Cornerstone Theory’s research, but that was the one thing that…

Hmm. Wait a minute. Something about that made the back of his mind itch.

Some of the grogginess left Axel as he frowned at the damp-spotted ceiling, slowly thinking things through. It was _Axel’s_ presence that had led Roxas to making the Cornerstone discovery, wasn’t it? Did that mean that Axel had swooped in just ahead of some _other_ guy who Roxas would have fallen in love with, transferring that affection unwittingly to himself and somehow managing to make it all align despite his presence changing things in the timeline? If so, then… that was one hell of a coincidence. Like, a one-in-a-million sort of thing. Or billion.

Even then, the fact that so little was known of Roxas in the future remained an enigma. Roxas had had no idea about time travel or the Organisation’s existence before tonight, so who had done that work for him? And it was a _lot_ of work – people didn’t just erase the majority of their presence from a timeline by accident, or with a click of a button. It was a complex process. It was, in fact, one that Axel was planning to do before they left, to make it that bit harder for the Organisation’s proxy agency to discover anything about the kid. With his laptop, it would be an easy enough task, but still hours of laboriously sifting through Roxas’ life, with Roxas as a necessary reference throughout the process since Axel didn’t know much about him in the first place.

But wait, _that_ didn’t make sense, either. That would mean that when Reno had accessed the information in their timeline, someone had already _done_ this, _with_ Roxas for a reference. It was the only way to make sure the eraser got all the pertinent details. So, then – somehow, by _natural design,_ if Axel hadn’t interfered, Roxas would have fallen in love with someone else in the same period of time, consequently made the discovery about the connection between powerful, positive emotions and cornerstone purification, _and_ at some point had someone _who knew it would be important_ erase his life’s details, with Roxas in the room.

That. Was. Impossible. Absolutely, entirely, flat-out impossible. There was no _way,_ the Organisation didn’t even technically _exist_ yet, so there was no one _in_ this timeline who knew that Roxas would need to be _protected_ by them.

Well, except for Axel.

But it wasn’t like _Axel_ could have…

His intake of breath was sharp enough to make Roxas twitch. Wide-eyed, he looked sideways at the kid. Roxas rubbed his nose a little, but otherwise slept on. As the minutes trickled by, Axel continued to stare. He took in every little detail of Roxas’ slumbering face – the thickness of his eyelashes, the tone of his skin, the shape of his mouth, the line of his jaw. And beneath all that, a sharp, witty mind, a clever brain, a lasting kindness. He was everything Axel had never known he wanted, or needed. He was the most amazing person that Axel had ever known, the only one he’d ever loved, and he couldn’t imagine there ever being anyone who could replace him. There was nobody, in all of existence, that he could possibly adore the way he did Roxas.

There was… _one_ other thing that Axel didn’t know, in all of this.

Roxas’ contractor. The one who had ordered the hit. In all his time here, he hadn’t really encountered anyone who had set his senses tingling – like, _‘Ah, I bet it’s them’._ And he still wasn’t sure just how significant Roxas’ contribution was to the Cornerstone Theory itself – he’d made the discovery about the emotions thing, sure, but the overall work would still be credited to Professor Ansem and the team in general. It might be a leg-up for Roxas’ career, but – even then, it wasn’t even scientific prowess that he’d employed so much as blind luck and happenstance. That was no reason to kill the kid – there wasn’t a lot of glory to steal. Then there was the fact that Roxas living or dying made no difference to it being the Research Committee who proved the Theory, which made ShinRa a weak contender for the role of the Organisation’s client, even _with_ Lucrecia’s presence in the research team. That Axel had all but expelled her from the project had little bearing on it, since she had already been on the team for Roxas’ discovery in the original timeline, and hadn’t managed to get the information to ShinRa in time to make any difference whatsoever.

In the end, there was only one person who benefited from the contract on Roxas’ life, and that person was… Axel.

He felt – pinned to the bed by the force of the revelation. _Could it possibly be…?_

Had it been _he_ who had set this all in motion? He was wracking his brain, but there was nothing else that was _coming_ to him – all the various little inconsistencies and oddities taken at face value had been weird and frustrating to live through, but viewed through the lens of it having been set up by _a member of the Organisation…_ it all started to make terrible, brilliant sense.

If – _he_ was the one who wiped Roxas’ tracks clean, after _he_ made the kid fall in love with him, and then managed to leave a contract request behind to gather twenty years’ of dust in a private post box, with a letter containing the numbers for one of the secret bank accounts he funnelled money into in case the Organisation ever turned on him… then, it all came together. It all had – cause and effect. Everything _fit_ this way.

He was destroying Roxas’ life to take it for himself, and he hadn’t even know he was doing it.

It was the most selfish thing he’d ever contemplated, yet here he was, contemplating it all over again, just as he evidently had done once already. It was one big – inevitable cycle. All of this… had already happened. Even this part, this moment of realisation. Where it started, he couldn’t begin to guess at, it was paradoxical, the only way he knew about Roxas was to be sent back to kill him, but the only reason he was sent back to kill him was because he was in love with Roxas and set everything in motion. Perhaps his original self had seen Roxas in the textbooks and – fallen in love at the sight of him. Christ knew the kid was like that.

It didn’t matter. He was here, now. And, in the here and now, he had a choice to make. A choice that had been made before, he didn’t know how many times.

Again, he looked sideways at Roxas, utterly torn. The question he had to ask himself was, did he love Roxas enough to let him go? Or did he love him _so much_ that he couldn’t possibly, ever, even to the point of twisting time itself to be with him?

 Everything was already set up for him to leave with Roxas – this version of events wasn’t going to be disordered if Axel chose to not submit the contract again. Roxas still cared about him, despite everything, and they would be leaving together, no matter what. So why shouldn’t he just – let it happen as it was meant to, and simply focus on getting them out of here? The cycle had to break at _some_ point, didn’t it? It couldn’t just continue in an everlasting loop, one Axel after another going back in time then vanishing into the past with Roxas. If Roxas already loved him in this incarnation, why bother doing it all over again? Why not lay this to rest, and let the timeline settle and resume its normal course? Roxas would be gone from it, either way.

However…

That said…

What about –?

…There was... still a little Axel in the world. A little, red-haired boy was out there somewhere, destined for a life of killing. A boy who would one day grow into a man too hot-headed and wild to end up anywhere but the Organisation or prison. That boy… without knowing Roxas, would never realise what was missing from his life.

What would he have done, if it was his current self who had been left alone in the world? Where would Axel have ended up, had he not come here and encountered Roxas?

Could he stand the thought of ever living without the blond – of being the one who condemned that little red-haired boy to a future without him?

Axel watched as, through the small, high-up window, sunlight bled slowly into the room. As it touched upon Roxas, the blond seemed to glow, Axel feeling his entire being glow in response.

…That was that, then.

He leaned across and pressed the lightest of kisses against Roxas’ temple. In the sleeping boy’s ear, he whispered, _“I’m so sorry.”_

With one more long look at Roxas, Axel slid silently out of bed and went to find a pen and a piece of paper. Letting Roxas go free would have to be left to others stronger than he was.

If ever there was an Axel that could face it.


End file.
